Sunday, November 12th 2006
Why On My Watch?
Sarah decided to stay in Africa for an additional two weeks to visit Botswana and Krueger National Park. She likes the animals and the animals like her. She enjoys the Safari stuff where I am not that moved by it at all.
I am in charge of the house while she is gone. Nothing major, just watering the plants, trash collection, litter boxes and there is the issue of Thor. Thor is one of her three black cats. He is the only one that I have a relationship with; the other two remain hidden and reclusive. He has a heart thing and requires two pills every day administered rather forcefully down his throat. He does not do the mixing it up in the cat food thing. Now that I am writing about it, it seems rather odd; it is something to ask Sarah about when she returns on Friday. I would much rather give Thor his pills in some sort of tasty, gooey diced cat food instead of throwing them down his throat.
Do not become alarmed about this. There is a technique to give pills to animals this way, it involves quick fluid movements. I used to work for a vet when I was in high school and learned quite a few things, one of them was how to administer pills to an unwilling patient. Although I am confident that I am minimizing my buddy’s discomfort the best way I can it still upsets me.
Those cats are Sarah’s kids and she loves them very much. I have seen the one she calls Speck only once since I have been home. That cat goes out of her way to be hidden. It isn’t uncommon even when Sarah is home, that it would be days before any visible sign of Speck. The fact that I hadn’t seen her in a while was not out of the ordinary.
Friday is the day to water the plants so I was making my way around the house visiting the greens. Slowly I opened the door to Sarah’s room to avoid startling the cats who hang out there. I walked in with the watering can to see Speck lying at the foot of the bed. Usually she is off the bed and under it by the time I get into the room so it seemed strange that she was still there. I walked up to her quietly thinking she was sleeping, as I put my hand on her side it was clear she was no longer with us.
Judging from how I found her and the fact that the cats all had a chance to go outside when the Handyman came by the day before I think she got into something poisonous outside. I cannot think of anything worse happening than Sarah’s cat passing. I called the vet and asked if they would not mind holding the body until Sarah gets back home and decides what to do with her. It really sucks on every level imaginable and to boot, I have a whole week to sit on this before she returns.
Johnny, I hope you realize what happened to the cat was not your fault. You did not deviate from an apparently long established routine. There was absolutely nothing you could have done differently to change the outcome. I am sure the “what if” questions are lingering like echoes, but you need to cease and desist from that kind of thinking. Keep in mind animals are adept at concealing symptoms. Consequently, a long term underlying health issue cannot be ruled out. Such a possibility seems plausible, given the reclusive nature of the cat in question. Regardless of what happened, Sarah is going to need you more than ever.
My heart goes out to Sarah and I can empathize as well. I have had the displeasure of loosing two beloved birds. My white fronted amazon died after becoming egg bound. Later, a heart attack induced by thunder claimed the life of my cockatiel. My heart also goes out to you Johnny. You are living through a pet sitters worst nightmare. Again, you are not at fault. I would certainly entrust you with the care of my animals any day of the week because I think it has been established many times over that you are an exceptionally responsible human being.
Take care
Johnny, that’s a major sucker, but it’s obvious, as LIT eloquently said, that whatever happened you were not at fault. Even if it turns out that Speck did come into contact with something poisonous outside, there is not a lot you can do to keep cats indoors which are used to roaming free.
I assume this wasn’t the handiman’s first time around the premise. Since:
a. nothing happened before when he was around
b. you never had to lock the cats in when he came by
c. he didn’t mention doing anything out of the ordinary (and if he did but didn’t mention it, it’s not your responsibility but his)
considering the above factors, there’s a good chance Speck died of natural causes.
I’m aware that it still sucks, though. And my heart goes out to Sarah, too.
And I’d still let you watch my own cats any day, if you could actually see them from the other side of the Atlantic.
No need to worry. I do not think that there is anyone at fault. This was a perfect example of
“The Worst Fucking Timing!”
I have been thinking about this Friday since well, last Friday and have not slept that gr8 since then.
Thanks for your support. J
Pets are a bizarre part of the family. We always think we know who they are living close with them… no common language, no common basic needs, seldom common habits… I wonder if fond of pets people love and feed them because they really understand them or just for their own sake, for the sake of steering someone else whose needs fall only after their own ones… if not, why is it so difficult for them to cope with other men, same laguage, same basic needs and customs?
However, pets and men live and die… no matter the timing…