Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Introducing the Quats of the Duck Haus: Part Three





















Pooky (short for Spooky, but also the POO being very Apropo to what she perpetrates upon me and my house every day of her life) -- came very close to dying yesterday. I had finally decided to take her to the vet, and I knew that if I did she probably wasn't coming back.

But I just couldn't do it.

It's true that she's so incontinent that I have to cover every piece of furniture. She leaves gooey "presents" behind her everywhere she sleeps. It's true that I have to clean dribs and drabs of the stuff off of the floor, wherever she goes, all day, every day. It's true that she's taken to sleeping on my bed and all the guest-room beds, and even in the sheets, so that I have to wash tons of linen every weekend (or close doors and spoil it for everyone). She knows that she's not supposed to. But in her never-ending quest to find Comfort she is refusing to confine herself anymore to the sofas. Once I found her on the quilt in the Halloween room, actually hiding under the Lion mask so that I would not see her and kick her out. I got so upset and frustrated about it a few nights back that I called the vet in the middle of the night to make an appointment, thinking, "Either they'll cure her, or they'll put her down, and I don't care which anymore. . ."

But it's not her fault.

She's a member of the family, and you don't kill family members, do you, although sometimes you want to. The cats are a trust left to me from Mom. I have to protect them and love them, much as this one sometimes makes it hard. I was crying about Mom the other night, and then I thought of Spooky and started crying even harder about her and knew that I wouldn't go through with it.

This morning, Spooky was hollering at me as usual while she waited for her breakfast. She does that every morning, because the food plate never gets set down fast enough to please her and I guess she thinks that screaming at me will make it come faster.

This morning I was in a bad enough mood that I hollered back at her, "Don't make me regret my decision! I could still change my mind, y'know!"

She seemed to understand what I meant. She shut up and calmly walked out of the room.

Poor Pooky.

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