pick a lil' blog a lil'

or so the song goes but, in real life, that is not what happened this past week. Since Mr Tuffy's incident a week ago(read my earlier post about the Uniballer), it had been determined that I would take Mr Tuffy to the vet and have him neutered. Shockingly, pre-op testing showed up the presence of the Feline AIDS virus and well, there was nothing that could be done. Our Mr Tuffy had to be euthanized and my little family is now just a little smaller.

I've been angry. Mr Tuffs lived in this neighborhood in peace for well over four years and if this idiotic complaint had not been made by our over-wrought neighbors, well, I'd still have a pet. Of course, I've been angry with myself for not getting Mr Tuffy fixed before now. We had taken him before to a vet but when they discovered only one functioning unit, it was determined that they could not do the surgery. We never went back. That was a mistake.

Of course, we were all sad too. Tuffy and litter mate Emmy(Emily) were born to a stray cat we reluctantly adopted, Miss Charlotte.(as in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte because she made so very much noise) Two other kitties, all white, Ann and Charlotte jeunesse along with Emily(the Bronte sisters) were also part of the litter. We found homes for the two white kittens but, after much deliberation and consternation, my Dad who always insisted he "hated" cats made the ultimate determination that we would keep Tuffy and Emmy. We found momma Charlotte a home on a farm in the country where she could mouse and have babies to her hearts content.

Of course, the pets were there through everything with us when Dad got so very sick. You know pets can be very therapeutic for those who are ill and I know Dad enjoyed having them around the last week he was home before he passed away. For all the grousing he did about the animals, he sure took extra care to make sure they were well off. it was not at all unusual to see Dad with one of the cats on his lap or talking to one of them as you would a child. Of course, in the middle of the night when the kitties decided to raise a ruckus, Dad was not above hurling a TV guide in their general direction. I doubt he ever hit them, as that was not his intention, but he could manage to get them to be quiet..............for a little while and then he would get up and let them out the door. always checking to make sure they had their food and water, of course.

i think what made me feel the worst, and this is highly illogical and stupid on my part, but all the way over to the vet, I told the very unhappy Mr Tuffy in his cat carrier that I would be back to pick him up. i'll be back tuffers, i told him as i let him lick my fingers through the cage. i left the vet office but i was not ever going back to pick up my cat and take him home.

and the cat came back..........no, he didn't and that makes me very, very sad. So, forgive me Mr Tuffy, I'm only a stupid human.