Seriously Not Cool

Today will go down in the Freud Book as a seriously fucked up day.

The morning was spent solemn and melancholy as I had an appointment to go put the little cat down. Yes, I did have an appointment to have it done last month, but the doctor talked me out of it, asking me to give the stray adoption facility time to find him a new home. As he is only happy when around kids, and that is a rarity in cats, I agreed. He missed the swing of the executioner's axe.

Once we brought him home, we doubled our efforts to get his litterbox aversion fixed, and he seemed to get worse. So I called and made a new appointment for the doctor. In the mean time I was calling the stray place 3 or 4 times a week to always be told there was not a place for him. I even called this morning in a last ditch effort to save him.... No dice.

Heartbroken, I loaded him into his carrier and took him to the vet. It took all my strength to not fly into a crying jag in the waiting room. Once the doc came in, she told me that the stray facility was going to "make room" for him. Miracle of miracles.... But I still cried my eyes out having the leave him there. When the lady came to get him, he was standing on the exam table, trying to crawl on my shoulder, purring his ass off- letting me know he was ready to go home now.

Not the typical cat, he has never been away from us. He was born in our closet, has never been outside, and never been boarded. Tonight he sleeps in a cold kennel cell, surrounded by the sounds of strange animals (never been around dogs, either), unable to see where he is, and has no little boy to cuddle up with. I know, I know... Animals aren't people, but they do feel a sense of confusion and abandonment... And I know as sure as I sit here that he is waiting and expecting me to come walking in any minute to pick him up and bring him home.... like after he was neutered.

I can only hope they find him a good home with a wonderful little kid to love, and an understanding family who will be patient with his blindness. The realist inside is being told to shut the fuck up regarding the likelyhood of a family adopting a blind cat with a history of peeing in front of his box. Oh, my GOD! He's such a sweet animal, and it is tearing me up inside that we had to get rid of him. The guilt I am bearing is almost more than I can stand. I am totally heartbroken and crushed, and I don't really know how to deal with it... except to cry through the loss of a family member and heal a little every day. I miss him wandering around the house so much, and feel so terrible about where he is sitting right now.

For now, I am going to print and frame a picture of our little Loki Puss for son to keep on his desk.

KMC Strays