Some Time Off

Hi folks,

Just a forewarning, I may need to take a few days off from mewling at you. I received word this weekend that my beloved cat has cancer, and that treatment is supposedly not worth the expense. My husband and I are still reeling from the news, as this cat has been with us for many, many years. My husband saved him when he was a kitten (you can read the story in a post I wrote long ago, before making this blog specifically about entertainment news and reviews–I’ve made it unprivate specifically for this occasion), and then proceeded to lose track of when exactly he did that, but we can say pretty confidently that he is somewhere between 18 and 22 years old. So yes, he’s an old cat. He’s lived a long and very happy life.

But we just aren’t ready to say goodbye.

He's a complete noodle when he sleeps. He just loves to be close to us. Bonus Blue Sun shirt.

He’s a complete noodle when he sleeps. He just loves to be close to us. Bonus Blue Sun shirt.

The vet has given a grim prognosis: a few months. It’s especially difficult to accept because of the fact that our dear Kiki is still acting like his usual cuddly, needy, and wankery self. He still spoons in my arms all night, every night, still begs for food and chows down on it when he gets it, and still jumps up onto my lap or reaches up my legs every chance he gets. We only took him in because he was a little bloated. I expected him to be like, constipated or something. But nope. 5 hours, countless tests, two vets, and obscene amount of money later, they are finally able to tell us that he has two tumors–one on his liver and one “free floating” in his abdomen, whatever the hell that means. Because there are two tumors the likelihood that it has metastasized is high, so even with removing them there are probably still other pockets of abnormal tissue all throughout his wonderful little belly.

I suppose the good news is that he is clearly not in any pain or discomfort, at least for the time being. We’ll be talking to the oncologist next week to see if there are any options for us–any at all–even though as a young couple we really can’t afford expensive vet bills.

Any words of encouragement or stories of your experiences with pet loss or sickness would be more than welcome and much appreciated. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with a little taste of the wonderfulness that is Kiki. First, how he greets me when I come home from work:

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Contentedly sleeping in a very odd position.

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What I have to deal with when I’m trying to work.

Watching Judge Dredd with his sister, Penny.

Watching Judge Dredd with his sister, Penny. Bonus Firefly cast wallpaper.

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Looking sharp in the tux he wore for our wedding.

So I’ll get back at you with the entertainment news, reviews, and commentary as soon as my brain has started to come back together from the absolute mush it is right now.

Keep mewling.

–MQ

An Ode to Kiki

I must apologize for my extended absence. Has it really been three weeks already? What with having my husband home my experiment in solitude is now over, and therefore I have had less of a need (and less of an opportunity) to post. A thousand apologies!

Things have also been absolutely crazy. My elderly cat slash best friend slash baby slash love of my life has been ill, and it’s taken a major toll on me. Luckily things seem to be improving, but there’s no certainty that there isn’t some underlying (and more serious) health issue to blame.

People may say that I am far too attached, that he is just a cat, and that I need to prepare myself for the worst. When people say that it makes me want to punch them in the face. How can I prepare myself to say goodbye to this?

Yes, folks. He actually sleeps like that. He also spends all night, every night, curled up in my arms. My husband gets very jealous that I cuddle the cat instead of him. He got so jealous that it led him to adopt our second cat about two years ago so that he could have one of his own.

The funny part about that is, though, that my Kiki was actually his first (which may explain the horrible choice of name for a male cat). When my husband was a kid, sitting in the car with his mom at a stop light on the busiest road in town, he saw a little black and white kitten run under the car stopped next to them. He jumped out and rescued the feral kitten, named him Stinky, which then turned into Spunky, which then turned into Kiki.

Then some years back, a little while after my husband and I started dating, I was away at college and for the first time was living by myself. I resolved to get a cat and my husband decided that, instead of getting another one, he would “loan” me Kiki.

That “loan” turned into a permanent gift very quickly. This cat became so attached to me, and I to him, that my friends began making jokes about how Kiki must think of me as his “god”, and how I must love him more than I love my husband. He greets me at the door whenever I come home. He sits on my lap at every possible opportunity. He comes when I call him. He is, without a doubt, the best cat I have ever met, and will probably ever meet.

Kiki has been with me through some of the most memorable moments of my life. He has comforted me through hard times. He was there the day I graduated from college. He was the one I celebrated with when Obama got elected. He even got dressed up in a kitty tux when I got married.

I am simply not ready to say goodbye. Even the mere thought of it makes my eyes well with tears. Perhaps my problem is I have never lost anyone very close to me. Perhaps it is a little sad that the first time that happens it may be a cat. All I know is this: I will be utterly and completely devastated when it happens, and I refuse to accept that it will be anytime soon.

I apologize for this mushy and somewhat depressing post with no real point. It’s just that this is all that has been on my mind lately, so it’s all I can think to write about. I promise I’ll make the next one more cheery!