Marc2b
Posts: 6660
Joined: 8/7/2006 Status: offline
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...Although everyone is welcome. A few days ago my cat suddenly started eating and drinking a lot less than he normally does. He also became much less active and affectionate, and he was always an very active and very affectionate cat. I took him to the vet this morning and then went through my day as best I could, trying not to worry too much. I got the news around 6pm. Liver cancer. He will have to be put down. I’ll be going back to the vet tomorrow morning so I can be there with him when it happens. I first met him six years ago, a few days before my birthday, in the middle of November 2001. He was a very furry fella and quite young, little more than a kitten. He was hanging around the door to my apartment building, being friendly to everyone who passed by, but he seemed particularly interested in me. He would follow me to my car when I left in the morning and I’d have to shoo him away because he kept trying to get into the car with me. When I came home from work he would try to follow me inside and again I’d have to shoo him away. Then he’d perched himself outside my window and just stare at me. This went on for a few days and he began to cry and cry more often. At first I assumed that he belonged to somebody nearby but now I began to wonder if he wasn’t lost (he seemed too friendly with people to be a stray). Finally, after three days, I couldn’t take it any more. I went outside and petted him and asked everybody who went by if they knew anything about him. One elderly gentleman in my building knew his tale (no pun intended). He had belonged to a couple who lived in the building furthest from mine. They had gotten him for their young daughter. Unfortunately, the couple were quite noisy (apparently they liked to blast punk rock music at three in the morning) and got evicted. They had simply abandoned him. He was then taken in by another couple but when they found out that they had to pay a two hundred dollar pet deposit and an additional twenty on their rent – back out the door he went. That’s when he apparently pegged me for a sucker. Well, we’d always had cats when I was growing up. I think cats are the second coolest creatures on the planet. Having recently moved in I hadn’t really though about getting a pet but I was cool to the idea of having one now. "Fine," I said, "looks like the third times the charm for you." I brought him inside and gave him some water which he lapped up eagerly. I then went to the store to buy some cat food and a little box. When I returned, I found that he had knocked over my garbage and feasted on some chicken bones, and had then made himself quite at home, sleeping on my bed. The next day I took him to the vet. She pronounced him to be six months old and other than a case of worms and some ear mites, healthy. It was while driving him back home that I decided that his story reminded me of Charles Dickinson’s story of Oliver. Thus did he become Oliver – but of course I, and everyone else, just called him Ollie. I looked up his breed on the internet and discovered that he was a Main Coon. Like most Main Coons he is VERY furry, very affectionate and people oriented. He’s a bit smaller than the average Main Coon and the tufts on the top of his ears weren’t quite as pronounced, so maybe he’s got a little something else in him. With Ollie I’ve had all the typical cat owner complaints and then some. I know I didn’t teach him to stay off the counters but to stay off the counters only when I was there. Most cat owners can tell you about shedding but with Ollie (who appeared to be twice as big as he really was) you have to multiply that by ten. Fur everywhere! I’ve gone through three vacuum cleaners in six years. And of course there were the hair balls. He was good for a big icky one about once a month. So why will I miss him? Well, cat owners know the answer to that too. Damn.
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Do you know what the most awesome thing about being an Atheist is? You're not required to hate anybody!
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