To your right is a perfectly nice ... SOMETHING. But, here? Um ..yeah.

So, I have a cat. Two cats, really. But I'm only really going to talk about Ginger-cat right now.

She's 17. That's as old as some of the girls that I get to hang with in Young Womens (and older than most of them!).

Lately she's gotten really, REALLY skinny. We've started giving her canned cat food. And she's started ... using other areas instead of her litterbox. Like, say, bath mats, towels or piles of clothes on the floor, our coverlet.

Sunday morning, I washed all our sheets and our coverlet. Sunday night (last night), I roll over and put my foot on the covers, right into a cold and wet spot. *sigh* I kick the cats off the bed, trying not to wake Michael (which doesn't work, since he's a light sleeper). And, as Gingi's in the hall, I start to worry that she's going to die during the night, expiring as she feels that I'm mad at her and don't love her. ... Issues much? Nooooooooooo. (Yes.)

So we get up, get a cat bed set up for her next to my side of the bed (she ends up sleeping on a towel at my feet. Spoiled? Yeah.) ... she's still alive, though. Right now she's chillin' on my lap as I type.

I finally asked the Google about how she's doing. Yup, renal failure ... which I rather suspected (got the inkling about). And she might have an absessed tooth, poor gal.

... Talked to Roxy. She had to take her 7-year-old ferret in to be put to sleep. He was in a LOT of pain. And their regular vet? Wouldn't take him in until after normal business hours (because he didn't want to bum out his other patients by having that go on before 5:30 .... Um, WITHER THE FRIES? Dude, an animal is HURTING. You want it to suffer for HOURS so that some person doesn't feel SAD? Dude, life is HARD. And most people in there are adults. I think they can handle it. How about you just have the "bummer-visitors" leave out the back??). Finally, she called another place who not only took them in IMMEDIATELY, but they even provided a box with Spry's name on it, covered with stickers. ... That's really treating your customers well. It's good to know that SOME vets (and their staff) realize how hard it is for a person/family to have to grieve for a loved pet.

I don't know when Ging is going to go. I kinda worry that I'm going to have to take her in at some point. At the same time, I worry that she'll die before that happens. For the time being, though, we're just trying to keep her comfortable and as happy as a geratric, losing-her-teeth kitty can be.
(Though, it'd make US happier if (1) she were still totally healthy or (2) she, at least, would make it to the catbox. Just sayin'.)

I was talking to Bucket the other day ... about how Gingi-cat probably won't be with us so long, that her heart or something will break down and stop working ... or that she'll need to get a shot so she won't hurt anymore.

As we talked, Bucket looked at me with tear-filled eyes and condraticted, "Gingi can't die. Heavenly Father and Jesus love her!"
"Oh baby, Heavenly Father and Jesus love EVERYBODY and people die all the time."
(Yes, I do sugar-coat it, don't I? Gosh, I'll have SUCH well-adjusted children, no?)

When I was telling her what'd happen when Gingi dies, I told her that Ginger's heart would stop, she'd stop breathing, and she'd get cold.
"Then I'll cover her with a blanket so she won't be cold anymore!"
My sweet Bucket-girl. It doesn't quite work that way.

(Though if it did, would we have a zombie-Ging on our hands? What would we feed her? If she eats cat brains, it would seem that Diana-cat is safe. :P)

... And I still need to do the rest of the dishes. And get the blanket dry.

Ging's trying to purr. She used to have a decently-loud purr. It's quiet now. Strange that her purr is one of the first things to go. Just sayin'.

And now Bruise had to come over to give her hugs. Cuuuute. And makes me get all misty-eyed. Ugh. I'm nothing if not productive right now, getting my grieving started early.

In a way, I almost wish that this was all over. And that makes me feel like a jerk. Ging is able to move around well enough. She is able to eat and drink. She can use the catbox (mostly) ...

I don't know how much it would cost. I don't even know if they'd let us take her home afterwards to bury her. ... I don't know much at all, really. This is what comes of having mostly indoor-outdoor or outdoor cats when I was growing up. Miss Priss wandered off (and came back YEARS later. And wandered off again -- arthritic, spunky gal).

Yeah. I'm just a bundle of joy here, huh?

Well, I should clean the kitchen and get dinner started.
Or go soak my head or something.