Sad Kitty Story

Nick and I carpooled today. He had to be into work early, and I had class in Forest Lake, so it worked out perfectly. We drove in and when I pulled into his parking lot, he said “Drop me off by the side door”.

No biggie. So I pull up, and tell him goodbye. Then I look toward the door. On the cement stoop is a tail and the butt of a cat, the head lying face down on the snow. It’s black and white, and surrounded by a puddle of its own urine. I gasp, Nick looks, and he says “Oh no. There was an old guy that lost his cat the other day while trying to get it into the vet’s office” (the vet is the next building over) “I think that’s it.”
Well, considering recent events, my stress level, and the fact that it was just too early in the morning for me anyway, I got teary eyed and uttered “That is horrible”. I stared, like staring at a car wreck, and just felt sick.
Nick got out of the car, walked up to the door, and then stopped, bent down, and touched the cat. He paused, then touched it more firmly. Its head perked up and it let out a big cry.
“Oh my GOD!” I screamed. I parked the car, Nick picked up the cat (who cried and cried and cried) and we ran over to the vet’s office. (I totally biffed it in the snow, if you want to hear something semi-funny.)
We run in and state that we believe it may be the lost cat from Monday, and two vet techs surround us and examine the cat. She was crying quite a bit and seemed to be in pretty rough shape, but they said they would do everything they could.
Well I climbed in my car and cried for quite a while. I think I just needed a good cry. During the entire class I thought about that kitty, and how dead it looked, and how it just popped to life at Nick’s touch. I thought about the times that Briggy looked absolutely dead, and we managed to keep her going. What a miracle.
So of course, on my way back up to Mora, I pulled into the vet’s office. I asked how the cat was, and they said “Excellent! Do you want to see her?” Oh, what a sweet heart. She had fleas, but she was such a lover. She talked and talked and rubbed against the cage as I stuck my fingers through and petted her. I said “Well did the owner come in?”
Turns out that the owner didn’t think that was the right cat, and was bringing the kids in to be sure after school. So of course you can guess the next question.
“What happens if it isn’t their cat?”
She explained that they would just work to find a home for it, make sure it was spayed and vaccinated, and go from there. I said “Well, I’m certainly not rich, and I have a regular vet that I use who gives me a discount (which is partially true, but he’s mostly just less than half the cost on everything! But I do get a discount a lot since I have 400 animals!) so I could take her, and I’ll get everything done through my vet… if someone else doesn’t want her.”
So I left my name and number, and got back in the car. Nick wasn’t back from his meeting, and I thought about our five cats already and how Nick would KILL me if he knew what I just did… at least I thought he would.
I passed him on the road just after I left the vet’s office, so I turned around. By the time I pulled in he was walking into the vet office.
He was in for about five minutes. He came out and said “I didn’t know you just stopped by there.” (How was I supposed to tell him???) They showed him the cat, too, and he, like me, was in shock at how wonderfully the cat was doing, considering it being starving/dehydrated/frozen this morning.
So a few hours later, after my lessons, I picked Nick up and we went back over to the vet’s office. The kids had verified that it wasn’t their cat, and the tech said “I’m paying for a lukemia test. I’ll let you know what I find out and we’ll go from there.”
Good sign! Nick said “Well you have our phone numbers” (He knew!?!?!) and we headed home.
Sure enough, not long after, we got the call. Kitty had lukemia. They said they wanted to make sure before they euthanized her that I didn’t want her. I said I couldn’t with my cats (it’s EXTREMELY contagious, and the last thing I want is for Briggy, Harold, Henry, Liger, or Whitey to get sick) and gave the okay for them to put her down.
Sucks ass. Really bad. I feel like shit, but I know how bad they suffer when they are sick like that, and that isn’t fair, either. She got plenty of love today, at least, from everyone in the vet’s office. She was a sweetie… and I was thinking I could manage cat number six.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Nicole
    Feb 04, 2011 @ 21:34:31

    Oh no how sad. Poor little thing.


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