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sunshine jen: Kitty Death Watch
My Uncle has a seventeen year old cat named Daisy. She’s an all-white crabby old cat. With the exception of the always-in-heat cats I lived with during college, she is the most vocal cat I have ever met.
She meows when she’s hungry. She meows when she’s unhappy with something. She meows just to hear herself meow. What’s scary is that I have responded her. The conversation went something like this:
Meow.
Yes, Daisy?
Meow.
Oh really?
Meow.
That’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear that.
Then, I pet her on the top of the head, and she starts to purr.
Daisy also has an eating routine. Even though she has dry food and water available twenty-four/seven and a litter box which is cleaned daily, she also gets a can of Fancy Feast (must be Fancy Feast) every day. While eating her Fancy Feast in her pink plastic bowel, she likes to be brushed with her kitty brush a dozen times. She won’t eat unless she is brushed.
Other than that, Daisy spends most of her time on earth sleeping and despising the dog she lives with. Fortunately, the dog is smart enough (he’s a border collie) to just ignore her and not interfere with her eating routine.
Recently, Daisy started looking thinner than usual, and my Uncle took her to the vet. It turned out that her kidneys were failing and that she was going to die soon. Even though everyone was sad about the potential loss of a beloved cat, she was seventeen years old.
This past weekend, my Uncle and Aunt were out of town, so I took care of the animals. I was given instructions that if Daisy went to the litter box in the sky while they were away, I was to just put her on ice until they came back. I think I should mention that my Aunt’s favorite show is CSI (Las Vegas, not any of the cheap knock-offs), so a cat in the freezer would not bother her.
I spare you any suspense. Daisy did not die this past weekend. She spent the majority of her time under the bushes in the backyard. When I wanted to leave, I would herd her inside. She was not easy to get out from under the bushes. It took a lot of kitty treats.
I recently heard that cats like to go under bushes and away from their usual places in order to die. I wonder if Daisy was setting herself up to die, but she kept getting interrupted by that nice lady and some kitty treats. Poor Daisy, she wants to go, but life is too damn good for her. I think Daisy has another year in her.
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