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2002-06-29

Piggy's specs were nicked at: 10:02 p.m.

Today, David and I got pizza. My pizza had chicken, broccoli and tomatoes. His had pepperoni, bacon and extra cheese. He called it "The Widowmaker." That's sort of a grim thing to say when your wife's standing at your elbow.

My dad took a 20 minute drive on the 401 to fix our toilet. That tells you how much we like our landspeople. Turns out their cat -- my cat -- is on her last legs and it's time for her to go to Cat Heaven. She's 20 years old, half insane, and dumped ten pounds in a week. That's a lot, if you're a cat. Since my mother won't, I'm taking her in on Tuesday. I'm going to miss her a lot, as much as she hates me. At least she has a viable reason to hate me ... when I was three I would throw her in bookshelves and bathtubs. Then I'd tie a string around her neck and drag her around because I really wanted a dog. Then my mom would wallop me. She was once chased out of the house by my much-clamored-for dog, and she survived out in the city for a month before she showed up again at our door again, frostbitten and with scrapes so raw on the back of her legs, you could see the bone.

Thanks in advance for any sympathy you might have, but it's not going to be as hard for me as you might think. I worked a co-op program in a vet clinic, and we admitted a lot of miserable animals. There were cats who were so sick, they couldn't eat. There was once even a German shepherd with a fused spine, who couldn't walk. But the owners refused to put them to sleep, and nothing pissed the vet off more than that. It's heartbreaking to put an animal to sleep, but it's a lot more heartbreaking to watch it struggle and stagger. It's much, much crueler to let an animal suffer than a human. Humans have an understanding of what's going on, at least. But animals have instincts. They have no concept of pity. If they lose a leg, well, they stumble by on three to avoid danger. But what if they can't walk at all? The look around the crippled German shepherd I mentioned was so miserable, I could hardly stand to look at him.

I can tell just by looking at my cat that it's her time to go. 20 years is a hell of a lot longer than I originally gave her, anyway. She was the runt of the litter. She outlived the dog that chased her out. :P