Our cat, Mustache, is about 19 years old this year. He has been steadily declining for about a month now. First we thought it was old age. Today though, I feel a mass in his stomache. Most likely it was cancer. We would have waited and seen in any instance. At this age, it doesn't make much sense to put your cat through operations or chemo that in the end are not that likely to work anyway.
My husband picked Mustache out two years after we got Clyde. Clyde died about three or four years ago now. Mustache has actually had the wrong name since we picked him out. When my husband went to pick out the kitten he was supposed to take home, he didn't grab "Mustache". He didn't find out about that until talking to his friend later.
Mussy was a very different cat than Clyde. Clyde was outgoing, confident, sure of himself, social, friendly, laid back, a great hunter, maternal and also a bully. Mussy was meak, scared of everything (especially people including us), easy for Clyde to pick on, not wanting to be petted, and biting sometimes. Slowly but surely he came around though. I remember one night Mussy was howling, as he normally did. I was trying to sleep so I ignored it. Finally I got up and found (while playing with a ball of twine) he had managed to tie himself to the chair. I think I gained his trust that night when I carefully disengaged him.
Then I found out he loved this game. He would hide in the hamper, I would peek over, and he would jump up at me. That started to grease the wheels a bit.
Clyde just beat the heck out of him at first. As Mussy got bigger though, those sessions started turning into play, and Mussy began to be able to take care of himself. While he never fully enjoyed being cuddled or petted (when it wasn't on his terms) for much of their lives together, Clyde and Mustache played, slept and cuddled together.
My husband picked Mustache out two years after we got Clyde. Clyde died about three or four years ago now. Mustache has actually had the wrong name since we picked him out. When my husband went to pick out the kitten he was supposed to take home, he didn't grab "Mustache". He didn't find out about that until talking to his friend later.
Mussy was a very different cat than Clyde. Clyde was outgoing, confident, sure of himself, social, friendly, laid back, a great hunter, maternal and also a bully. Mussy was meak, scared of everything (especially people including us), easy for Clyde to pick on, not wanting to be petted, and biting sometimes. Slowly but surely he came around though. I remember one night Mussy was howling, as he normally did. I was trying to sleep so I ignored it. Finally I got up and found (while playing with a ball of twine) he had managed to tie himself to the chair. I think I gained his trust that night when I carefully disengaged him.
Then I found out he loved this game. He would hide in the hamper, I would peek over, and he would jump up at me. That started to grease the wheels a bit.
Clyde just beat the heck out of him at first. As Mussy got bigger though, those sessions started turning into play, and Mussy began to be able to take care of himself. While he never fully enjoyed being cuddled or petted (when it wasn't on his terms) for much of their lives together, Clyde and Mustache played, slept and cuddled together.
Mustache has been very lonely since Clyde died, and due to my husband's allergies, we haven't been able to get him another cat. Mussy never really bonded with the dogs, although he did eventually learn to control them.
It's the definate end of an error (or era bah!!) as the last of our first two pets die today. The dogs love him, even if he feels so so about the dogs.
1 comment:
I am so sorry! It is so painful when our beloved pets die. I cried more for when my cat died than I did for when my grandparents died!
Pam
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