melle_chantilly: (Hand on stone)
I want to write this down, for myself. It might be tough to read (it will certainly be tough to write) and no one has to, of course. I'll give proper CW just in case.

As you probably know, Punky was diagnosed with advanced renal failure and liver damage almost two months ago. She was given meds that helped a lot, and gave us several more weeks to spend with her. She was back to normal for a while, until she started to slowly weaken. 

(CW for details about her illness and how it got progressively worse) Last Thursday, she had barely eaten her night food (she had always eaten sporadically so it was not extremely worrying at first). We couldn't give her her meds in the evening because she wouldn't touch her beloved treats. On Friday, she wasn't eating at all anymore. We called the vet and talked to her a little bit, knowing what her not eating meant. We tried feeding her fresh steak (her favourite) but she was just not interested. She was getting very weak and her hind legs mostly weren't supporting her anymore. She didn't seem to be in pain, just very tired. We gave her a hot water bottle to sleep on.

(CW for our last visit to the vet and kitty death) On Saturday morning, we made the call. We were hoping to be able to wait until Monday to bring them Punky but at that point it felt unnecessary and cruel. The vet gave us an appointment 2 hours from then. We spent these hours cuddling Punky. She was extremely weak, only half conscious. Her usually loud purring was then almost imperceptible. Taking her to the vet was not as traumatic for her as it used to be. She didn't have the energy or awareness to be scared. The vet was gentle, reassuring and supportive. She explained to us everything that was going to happen. She first gave Punky a general anaesthesia. She left us in a room with her to say goodbye and watch her fall asleep. We cried, held hands and petted her for the last time. Then the vet came back and asked us if we wanted to stay. We did. For some reason, I wanted to be there until she wasn't breathing anymore. I can't explain it. The vet gave her the final injection and her breath faded away.

I've been crying a lot for the past days, but a weight has been lifted too. So many complex emotions. We were already mourning the cat we knew long before she was gone. She hadn't been herself for a while. She was tired and sick, and life had started leaving her body with the illness. But she was still the best cat we've ever known.

Now, the sadness is slowly becoming nostalgia and I can recall her quirks and crazy cat behaviours without bursting into tears. Almost. Not quite, yet. We know one day we'll start another chapter with another cat. But for now, I just want to replace her. And she's irreplaceable. I need to wait until I am able to fall in love with another, different cat. The flat feels so empty without her.

Stoked

Apr. 18th, 2013 12:00 pm
melle_chantilly: (Jen)
 I'm very happy with my new dyeing job! I wanted to dye a yarn to match the colour of my cat's eyes. :) It took me 3 overdyes to get the colour I wanted.





What do you guys think? I love comments, so if you're reading me, you should leave a note. :)

Punky

Jan. 6th, 2011 04:04 pm
melle_chantilly: (Lutens)

Warning: if you're very sensitive about animal abuse, my mentioning of how my cat was treated before I got her might upset you, although I don't give a lot of details.

My cat is weird. She is also the most wonderful cat I've ever had. Math and I adopted her from a shelter 5 years ago. We went to a shelter I had already been to, that sadly no longer exists. The family working there was awesome, they'd take wonderful care of the animals and would just keep the ones that no one wanted. I asked the owner once how many cats she had and she didn't know. They kept all the cat in a house in the suburbs, away from the main roads. They would let most of them wander free, and would keep in cages only the newcomers before they got tested by the vet for diseases, and the stray cats they'd capture to get neutered.

We had planned to get a young cat. We didn't want a kitten, first because they're cute but a bit wild and would probably had made a living hell of our small apartment, but mostly because you can't predict how a kitten will turn out and a super energetic cat would have been miserable in our flat, whereas it could be a cosy heaven for a calm, indoor cat.

So yeah, young cat, 9 months to a year was the goal. And we saw her. She was a mess of tangled dirty hair. She was one of the few to be in a cage. She looked absolutely pathetic and miserable. The owner took her out of the cage and held her in her arms and she started purring. We were told that she was a scared, complicated cat because of the abuse she had gone through. They took her from a home were she was beaten, and “fell off” the 3rd floor balcony. Her hip bone broke when she fell and her owners didn't bother take her to the vet. Then she was adopted by a nice couple. But the guy decided not long after to take a big dog, so they decided that the cat would live on the balcony. The shelter made a surprise visit and when they saw that, they took her back.

She was 5 years old and people weren't really interested in adopting a broken adult cat. The owner told us that she needed time to adjust to new places and people but that she was the most loving creature ever. We both felt that we simply had to take her. We called her Punky, because of her spiky dirty hair.

She indeed needed a lot of time to adjust. But she indeed is the most loving cat. She isn't the kind of cat you can pick up randomly to cuddle and play with. She'd just scratch your hand and go away. But she loves being around us. And when she decides she wants a cuddle, she's the warmest purring ball of fur. And you know that it's a genuine sign of affection.

She isn't spiky anymore. She is a bit dirty because she can't bend most of the time to wash herself entirely. We shower her once in a while but she hates being brushed, so we have to shave her dreadlocks from time to time. Her spine is crooked, she walks a bit funny. She can't jump very high, sometimes she tried pathetically to scratch her neck and I come to scratch her instead. When she sleeps she had strong spasms in her rear legs. The vet has seen her and said that there was little to be done but that it wasn't worrying.

Sometimes I wonder if she's in pain. It wouldn't be surprising but no one can tell. She's a little broken thing, a bit like me.

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