Cats of DOOM

[Greg]

In a surprising turn of events, I learned last night that Fergus knows how to use the dog doors to get in the house. He was waiting in the hallway for me as I went to the bathroom. Fortunately, the dogs were asleep at the time or there would have been issues.

[Drunk Monk]

In a surprising turn of events, I learned last night that Fergus knows how to use the dog doors to get in the house.

Just wait until Fergus teaches that to the skunks.

Billy puked in our bungalow today and on the veranda.  

[Drunk Monk]

Last night Billy curled up on my chest as I was lying down, watching a DVD.  It was very sweet.  I haven't had a cat do that since Ginger.  Stacy thinks she's taken a liking to me.  And Billy is female.  I was mistaken before because of the name.  Billy is also 18 and very smart.  She knows what's up.

[Drunk Monk]

Billie has a new collar.  I guess the former owners are reclaiming her.  And the new tag is spelled 'Billie' instead of the previous 'Billy'.  But she's still here, basking in front of our heater and eating food we put out.

[Drunk Monk]

Billie was hit by a car.

Our backyard neighbor, Matt, took her to the vet.  He had to go to work.  She's at our bungalow now.  Stacy is taking care of her - fortunately she has the day off today.  She's on painkillers and resting in front of our heater.  Stacy texted 'Her pelvis and hind leg are not working very well. She wants to move but can't more than a few inches without looking sad.'

We have not contacted Nancy, Billie's former owner.  Before you think poorly of Nancy, know that she's a caretaker for her adult son who was born without any working muscles.  He's a complete quadriplegic and lives in her granny unit behind her tiny home.  I'm not sure how old he is but he met Shatner and Nimoy as a youth when they filmed Search for Spock (1984).  There was a cool photo in his room of that meeting and he looked to be around a teen then, so probably just a little younger than us.  I only met him once when they needed some help moving him.  He was intelligent and engaging.  Nancy has cared for him for his entire life.  I don't know where she gets money.  Obviously he needs a lot of care.  What's more, no one in the neighborhood is quite sure what is happening with Nancy right now.  Matt says she has trouble remembering him and he's lived there forever, as long as they have. They live two houses down from us and have their own handicapped parking spot in front of the house.

So when Billie started showing up at our place, we didn't fault Nancy.  It's just one of those things.  

I have a work commitment in SF tonight and then need to care-take for my mom tomorrow.  I may head back to the Cruz tomorrow night instead of staying over - we'll see. Stacy doesn't think there's a need right now.  

Billie wasn't doing that well this week.  A huge palm tree was removed from in front of Matt's house this week because the roots were tearing up his plumbing (ours is the century+ old bungalow; his is a shoddy granny unit added on to the property a few decades ago).  The fence I built for Jingles had to come down because it was right next to that palm tree, and it blocked Billie's path to our pom (now cat) door.  So when I came home, Billie was peeing in the street right in front of where I usually park, and wouldn't let me park there.  Then yesterday I fed her the last of the chicken we made for her, but it had gone stale so she puked up on our veranda.  But she pukes a lot.  Old cat.  She didn't come by last night, and we thought she went back to Nancy's since her tag reappeared.  Now we know Matt had her.

We knew that this was a hospice deal with Billie.  She is a smart and sweet old cat, but so very frail.  I've been trying not to get attached, but that's always delicate.  I've even kept a shoe box because it's just the right size for a cat coffin.  Compassion means to 'suffer with' and that is my meditation for today.

[Greg]

Damn animals, playing with my heart like it's a toy.

[Drunk Monk]

Stacy reached out to a mobile vet, the same one that put Jingles to sleep.  Billie now has no mobility and no appetite.  She's on buprenorphine and we have only one dose remaining.  The vet Matt took Billie to wouldn't euthanize because she's not his cat.  We're not sure what's happening with the neighbors.  Many in our 'hood think Nancy has dementia, but I don't know where that puts her son.  It's all very muddled.  

I'm at my mom's.  She wants me to take her to practice driving, but I'm not going to do that.  I really don't have the bandwidth for that.  I'll tell her about Billie. I'm kind of waiting for her to ask me about how I might be doing - I don't know why - she seldom does anymore.  I'll probably tell her about Billie after I get more of my reviews chipped out.

I'm eager to get home tomorrow.

[Drunk Monk]

i've pretty much finished my review. i'm going to quickly do my mom's chores and then head home.  we're looking to put billie down soon.  she's really suffering.  

[Greg]

Ugh. I feel your pain.

[King Bob]

That's so sad. At least she got some good days in front of your heater.

[Drunk Monk]

Back at the bungalow with Billie trying to make a plan...

[Greg]

I can't tell you how much I hate that decision.

Oh, yes, I can. I hate it. It never gets easier. But it still has to be done. I feel grateful for the pets that passed away gently in their own time.

[Drunk Monk]

We still haven’t made contact with Nancy. We’ve left messages and s note.

Matt has been helpful but he’s tired. He’s been working his ass off clearing palm tree roots off his sewage pipe. 

Billie is resting now, using my hand as a pillow.

[cranefly]

So many tragedies coming in high and low, big and small.  I find it hard sometimes to give them appropriate weights.  The low and small ones can really hurt.
Go in peace, Billie.

[Drunk Monk]

Finally heard from Jesse, or rather his caretaker. He’s the quadriplegic. They are sending someone to pick up Billie. We all think it’ll be best to put Billie down. I’m hanging with him for this last hour until that designated helper arrives, just scratching his neck for the last time.