dannydmc

RIP
Scourge the Cat
June, 2006 - January 19, 2007

My cat died a week and a day ago today. It first noticed he was sick on Thursday, I'd woken up to find him sitting in the living room, breathing deeply and not responding when I called him. At the time, i thought it was sick with the flu or had an upper respitory infection; when he came into my bedroom and feel asleep I was assurured he'd be getting better soon.
I came home from work last Friday, and at first felt goot; he heard me coming and started crying like he always did when he heard me on the otherside of the front door. A few minutes later, however, I noticed that something was wrong; not only was he breathin hard, but his cries were cries of pain.
I got scared and called a 24-hour animal hospital which confirmed that cats breathing with an open mouth and crying in pain is NOT a good sign (I'd figured this out, by this point, but was hoping they wouldn't confirm my fears). I rushed him to the hospital where they confirmed my worst fears.
For months I'd noticed that the cat had been gaining weight, and I'd put him on a diet to combat it. The vet told me, however, that his large belly wasn't the result of over-eating, he was retaining bodily fluids which were pressing on his lungs making it hard to breath. Apparently, this was caused my a bad heart, something he had prob'ly been born with.
I decided to have him put down; it just didn't seem fair to keep him in misery, just because I'd developed a connection with the damn cat. It was the right decision, and I haven't second guessed myself in the past week; certainly, if I had a similiar condition and was in the same amount of pain, I wouldn't want to be kept around if nothing could be done to cure me.
I don't doubt myself, as I said, but I still miss that damn cat. He was the first animal I've actually allowed myself to give a damn about since my Mother had my favorite cat, Delenn, shot when I was in High School (apparently, after disapearing for a week after giving birth, she had returned home and tried to attack my sister. My Mother had her shot. I have still yet to forgive my Mum for this one. I loved that damn cat). MY apartment feels so empty, and I still half expect him to meet me at the door when I come inside after school.
Personally, I want to remember him in his prime, not in those last few days. To say he was a 'good cat' would be missing the point. He really wasn't; he was an utter pain in the ass most of the time. He demanded attention 24/7, shredded my bedroom carpet and chair, put holes in my 100 dollar leathern jacket, tried to bite my nose off as a kitten, and did countless other things to get on my nerves. He was an attention hound who would cry hysterically if you weren't paying attention to him every moment you were home.
But he liked me. He liked everyone, actually, but me in particular. If someone came over to visit me, he'd sit on their lap for a few minutes before jumping off to be by me. He woke me up several mornings by licking my face and, when he didn't do that, I'd often find him curled up by my face and puring loud enough to wake the devil. When I was on the computer, he'd be curled up in my dirty laundry, or on my jacket, because they smelled like me.
He may not have been a 'good cat', but he was my type of cat. Vicious at times, playful, cocky, arrogant, and loyal (in his own way). I really miss having that sonuvabitch around. He had a way with people; my Dad (who claims to hate all animals) became attached to him as well over Christmas break, as did my Mother. My poor Father sounded heart broken when I told him the news (and my Dad is even more emotionally reserved than I am!)

Yes, thats right. The guy who, at the age of six, was accused by his mother of having "no feelings, just like your father" , really misses his cat


In other news, my life isn't going all that terrible. I got offerend a graduate assistantship by my favorite Professor a few days ago, which comes with a tuition waiver. I've started the job, I'll be doing research and interviewing local artists for a project, and I utterly love it. Not only is the research fun (yah, I'm a dork), but, for the first time in years, I feel like I belong somewhere!
Thats no small thing, let me tell you! The professor invited me, along with another member of the department, to a bookreading in the town I'll be doing the interviews in. While there I realized that, although the two historians were not treating me like an equal, they were treating me like an intelligent adult who had something to offer the conversation.
The last time I felt like I belonged much of anywhere was my Senior year of college and, oh, how I've missed that feeling! It seems like, for the past three years, I've been wandering, lost, trying to find my way back home, but to no avail. My cousin Tom (who I sometimes refer to as my 'little brother') had jokingly taken to refering to me as Ulysseus. "You keep trying to get back home to Ithica, but never manage it", he stated.
I also may have a date in the coming days. There is a girl in my apartment who I've been talking to on-and-off ever since I moved in; we'd chat a bit when ever we saw one another. Taking the initiative, earlier this week, I asked her if she'd like to catch a movie and she said "sure!". I'm not getting my hopes up to much; she has a male friend, in Belfast, she'd going to visit in a few months and it could well be that they're an iteam. But, at the very least, I should have some good company for a while; at this point I could use friends just as well as a lover (although the later would be prefered )
All in all, I'm feeling much more confident and happier...you know, save for the cat

One final note: Have any of you ever heard PAtti Smith? I got the first season of SNL on DVD for Christmas this year and, on one of the episodes, she's performing "Gloria" and 'My Generation". I heard it and my jaw nearly hit the floor "My GOD" I whispered in shock. I just bought her album "Horses" and its utterly amazing; he was punk a few years before there WAS punk. Its a beautiful album.