Oh, kitty.

 - by Sarah Lipoff

© Sarah Lipoff 2010

On top of all the crazy holiday stuff, our cat decided it was her time to not be a cat. It was a normal day, and I was busy doing my thing while the babe napped, and then, while enticing the wee tot with some pasta, I heard a noise. And, it was a noise that needed immediate attention.

You see, we recently discovered that our cat was deaf. She was old (like 110 in our years) and was starting to become a little more bothersome than normal. The hubs and I figured it was due to the changing temperature, the amount of food we were giving her – the fact that our child walks on her…

Neither one of us wanted to acknowledge that it was more so probably due to the fact that she was old. OLD.

When I met my husband, he had this cat. This cat was his GIRL. And, she knew it. I don’t think she fully accepted me until last year as a part of HER household.

I was so worried when I got pregnant that Delilah was going to start peeing in the corners, scratching the house to shreds or acting all crazy-like. Actually, Delilah was the one who let the baby grab her tail, touch her whiskers and seriously squash her.

She totally let our daughter get away with tons. And, I think she actually liked it.

So, today when I head her give some big-ol YEOOOOOWLS, I knew there was something going on. I mean, I know she’s deaf and all, but, wow, this was something else.

I found her at the bottom of the outside deck stairs, and she was sitting in an odd position. She couldn’t move. Her back legs weren’t working.

I knew this was bad.

I tossed the babe in the crib (because I knew she was safe there) and got out the flashlight (because it’s dark now) and found her. She didn’t fight me when I picked her up – which made me realize it was really bad. I knew at that moment things weren’t going to go well for the rest of the evening.

I called the hubs. He had a feeling.

We met up at the vet.

Within the hour we were forced to make the decision. Did we want to put our cat through potentially weeks of not knowing what was wrong, keeping her confined while doing blood tests, racking up hundreds of dollars of tests……

Yeah, I know some of you out there would do it. But, we aren’t you. We both knew in a moment and a quick look that this was it. This was the moment.

It was time to help our amazingly wonderful fantastic cat move on to the next part of whatever was to come for her.

We both bawled.

Thanks, Delilah, for almost 20-years of awesomeness. We all loved spending time with you, pulling your tail, bitching about all the f*cking black hair you left everywhere, and your ability to look good at all times.

You rock.

I love you and miss you already.

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