h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

She was a surly thing who ruled my courtyard and slept in my garage, up in the rafters. Two of my cats wouldn't even go in the courtyard because Tigger was so ill-natured: they had been thoroughly beaten up by her and wanted no further part of it. She simply would not socialize with other cats.

Most nights I would hear her surly indignant yowl when some other feline set foot in her courtyard.

It took 6 months of twice-daily feeding before I could even touch her. And even then she held herself aloof. If you picked her up she wouldn't fight but she remained rigid in one's arms.

In the past couple of months, however, things began to change. Her fur looked matted and tufty, her flanks went seriously hollow, and she could no longer defend her food bowl from other cats, who deliberately mobbed her and took her dinner unless I stood over her.

But she wasn't my cat, she was Cille's. Cille had delivered her as a kitten, and has always been difficult about losing pets, as my earlier journal entry about Ruffles will attest. Eventually, however, it was she who finally agreed that Tigger would not survive another winter sleeping in the garage. She agreed to cover the bill if I would take Tigger to the vet, handed me a shroud, and asked me to bring the body back so she could bury it.

That's what I did today. Tigger went into the carrier without protest -- she was cadaverous, weighed only feathers -- and I drove her to the vet in Capitan. Becky administered a sedative and almost immediately Tigger began to fold in on herself. It was clear she had been on the verge of heart failure, because her veins collapsed and Becky had to administer the chemical coup de grace into the jugular.

She now lies in Cille's shed, wrapped in her blanket inside the carrier, awaiting burial. I never really liked the old boot, but I can feel the empty space where she used to be. May she have a more comfortable and congenial life on the next trip.

Poor old cat Lil,
we had a cat that came in to be fed where I work that went down hill slowly and was eventually run over by a car. It seemed to have run away from home and was a lovely cat who got called "Cat Cat" as no one knew its name.
It slept under a radiator at night and was no bother, we thought it was a girl cat as so girly, it turned out to be a boy cat,lol!

it is awful when you lose a pet. My mum had to get our sheltie sheepdog put down earlier this year as she was struggling to breathe towards the end, it is strange not seeing her when i go to visit my parents, but at least we still have my cat.

mini

My deepest condolences to Cille, Lil. And how wonderful a friend are you for taking on such a difficult and emotional task for her!

Even when we don't like the animals we come in contact with on a daily basis, they still touch our lives. When my brother's George had to be put down in February I cried. Even though I hadn't shared a house with him - beyond a week or two on vacation - for almost fifteen years, it was still a loss.

I have no doubt that Tigger is queued up for her next life and will spend it as a pampered, prissy, purring lap cat. Just because I believe that there is always a balance in the universe.

Sometimes you feel more responsibility for the stray-like creatures than you do for the homely ones.

A difficult task.

B

My condolences to Cille, Lil. You did a very kind thing for them both, I think.

Sometimes it's the stand-offish ones that get you. My cat Poubelle had to be put down, after she had been poisoned. My friend Pam drove me to the vet, and she was crying as much as I was, even though she still had Pubelle's scratches from the previous week's cat sitting.

This has so reminded me of Spotty Cat and Spotty Cat's mum, The Lean Mean Killing Machine who used to live here but moved away.
Spotty Cat was a fat big ball of lovable fluff who everyone loved and used to sit on my stomach while I sun bathed. Her mother was a pure muscle cat, lean to the point of scary in the sense of what she would be capable of, she stood no quatre and was always in fights, her hisssing and growling was enough to ensure a win!
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Lean Mean Killing Machine needed no one , cat nor man, and wouldn't even bother going around differant houses to get food as was so capable a killer to the local small rodents, and larger I suspect!
She wouldn't come nearer than 6 feet for 6 months and it took another 6 months to get a few seconds of a stroke and she was off. She wasn't fearful, just didn't need anyone or cat. It took another few months for her ao allow the occasional short stroke but I felt it was begrudging sometimes.
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Although they moved away and didn't die , I missed Lean Mean Killing Machine and her independant way and respected her. I realise now that if LMKM became ill and went down hill I would feel really sorry for her as she would be losing the 'ornery streak and independance I respected.
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We can love the strangest creatures sometimes and can't really understand why we do when the creature just ignores our attemps to stroke it. Perhaps it is the independance we respect so much that can quickly turn to dependance during illness.
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"Cat Cat" who I knew, was a friendly and loving homeless cat, perhaps this is a good time to wish it well in its continued forever sleep.

You are a good friend, Lil.

I should have added, it is very dificult sometimes to decide when it is time to let a pet go. People sometimes need to think whether they are keeping a much loved pet alive for their sake or the pets.
It sounds Lil, like you did exactly the right thing as Tigger sounded like it was getting to a point where its quality of life was going and it must have started to feel very sad.
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It is never an easy thing to do and I was in floods of tears when I realised my much loved white pet rat, not that long ago, was not happy anymore and starting to lose its quality of life. I had to go back the next day to pay vet when she put my rat down as so upset.

Indeed, you are a good friend for doing that. Condolences to Cillie and to you.

Sad task. I hope Cillie is doing ok.

Cille.

That's very sad. Sounds like a unique beast. Hope you and Cille are able to console each other.