Sunday, April 29, 2007

I saw love coming through my windowpane.

Old beastie.

Our sweet old kitty-girl Kaya is dead. She had a seizure a few days ago. Then she had another one two days ago. Yesterday she was struggling around, though she still managed to wait hopefully for me to finish my mac and cheese so that she could lick the bowl. The cat was cheese-obsessed right up until the end and would dance around the kitchen if she thought you were going into the fridge, where the cheese lives.

Anyway, we had to figure that if we were seeing seizures, there were probably more episodes that we never saw. She was still scarfing down gourmet (nasty) canned food, but her weight had dwindled a lot. She was still cleaning herself, but had developed a lot of dredlocks, including a giant one that looked like a backpack. She was still using her litterbox, but was also leaving tarry turds elsewhere in the house. At night she wandered restlessly and yowled like she was confused. This was all okay. She was 19. That’s what happens. But seeing her struggle so much, we knew it was time to make a decision. My mom carried her over to the vet, wrapped in a big towel. The vet stayed open late to give our cat last rites.

So that’s been going on. It’s sad but I’m glad it’s over.

Meanwhile, my sister and BIL went to Vegas on that Alan Thicke vacation. You know the one: Alan Thicke is standing fully-clothed in some luxe pool, yelling that what’s happening in Vegas should be happening to you. Mol and BIL decided to take him up on it and go have a mostly-free vacation in exchange for sitting through a time share presentation. They left their progeny with us. As a result, I am very very tired and the thing I have probably said most in the last few days is “Jude, put your penis away” or some variation thereof. Usually it’s something like “it’s bad manners to take your penis out when other people are around,” which is hysterically funny to say but must be delivered with perfect seriousness if it is to have any effect. Dude is down his pants FULL TIME these days. “You have to go in your room if you want to do that,” Henry advised him sagely a few days ago. He speaks from experience.

Henry also suggested, upon learning of Kaya's death, that "we could have a sad little party for her." That's been invented, man, but it's a good idea anyway. He also suggested a brick for a marker and it could say, succinctly, "Kaya: Dead."

Though my bowling skills mattered not at all in the context of my recent fundraising, I bowled well enough that my friend's husband asked me to join his team. I'm all beginnerish flair in the first game, you see, and we only had time for the one. So I made it count and bowled a 151. It was good to see so many dads and babies at the bowling alley. I think in light of anti-choice rhetoric and the government occupation of our uteruseseses, it's easy to forget that being pro-choice is about having the full spectrum of choices about reproductive health, about every child being a wanted child. It's easy for the anti-choice folks to fail to recognize that a government with the power to compel you to stay pregnant is a government with the power to compel you to terminate a pregnancy. See, there's a post about this very thing on Feministe (and lots of other things to read about reproductive rights in the archives). Thanks again to everyone who contributed. Next year I'm going to get off my ass and do real face-to-face fundraising, which I believe is harder to turn down.

I seem not to have quite gotten the hang of this new blog yet, have you noticed that? Jella confessed to me that she misses my old one. Stick with me, people. Things should settle down next month and then I can get my narrative on again.

Also, it's been really nice out and that has made it almost impossible to post. Plus Ace the 15 pound cat-brute is up in my grill right now, and that makes posting pretty difficult too.

6 comments:

  1. Aww, poor Maven. I'm sorry about the kitty.

    I'm also sorry that you've been having to tell a boy to put his bits and pieces away. Young women should never have to say that.

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  2. Well, I think you have the hang of things quite nicely with a post like that. Yo, the H&J stories kill the room, man.

    And I'm sorry for the loss of little Kaya: Dead.

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  3. Hey doll. You're still welcome to be a member of !2 Beer, we're not just a diaryland phenomena. Let me know and I'll send you the instructions for logging in as 12beer and I'll change the link on the main page for this blog.

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  4. This post, man. I'm crying over dead kitties, then I'm peeing myself over little boys with their hands down their pants. And then I'm full of rage over anti-choice politics. Now I need to rest.

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  5. RIP, beautiful be-dreaded Kaya kitty.

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  6. Sorry about your kitty.

    I'm quietly dying in my office over the penis shenanigans though.

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