Just want to say sorry to all of you who have been emailing me and writing me comments... I haven't been around too much lately. I had to put my cat down the other day... he got F.I.P... a terminal viral disease. And if that wasn't enough I broke up with my boyfriend of nearly two fucking wasted years last night. Happy new year hey? Hah. I'll write more later and try to get back to all of your emails.
Okay it's later. Um... where to start? So much has happened... it's over and above what words can convey.
December 30th my boyfriend... ex-boyfriend?... took my cat out to Oakbank so he could be taken into his regular vet. Something was very wrong. We both knew it, but didn't want to believe it. His stomach had swelled horribly. He must have gained 15 lbs in one week, yet he wasn't eating. We could feel his spine. My cat was dying and we both knew it.
December 31st my cat was taken to the vet at 7:30 a.m. The vet called me at work at 10:00 a.m. right as I walked off the elevator. Karen, the receptionist, called to me to take the call at my desk, that "the doctor" was calling. Sure enough, the doc from the animal hospital. Fuck was I scared to take that call. "I have good news" is how it all began... He said my cat didn't have a bladder blockage, which was "good news!" But then he said "which means it could be one of many possible problems." Fuck.
I waited another two hours then he called me back. I had already been freaking out worried sick about my cat for the entire morning. Then came the final blow... "it's terminal". Christ. My cat had F.I.P. a fatal viral disease. It caused his abdomen to swell with fluid, he wasn't eating, he was dying. There was no cure. No real treatment. No explanation of how he even got sick. What the hell is research for?
I left work. Two hours later my boyfriend and I were at the vet saying goodbye to my little boy. He was so scared. The girl placed him on the table wrapped up in a blanket and I could see the fear in his eyes. He moved as close as he could to me and rested his little head on my arm. He stayed cuddled close to me the entire time. Each time he looked up at me with those big round eyes I could tell he just wanted to go home. He wanted to be well again. We stayed with him for three hours comforting him and ourselves. I've never made such a horrible decision in my life as I did that afternoon. Euthenasia. It had to be done... he was in too much pain... he wouldn't live longer than a few days even with "treatment". I would give anything to have him back. I miss him more than anything.
So here I sit tears running down my face. Missing my little boy. My best friend. It's not fair. He was only a fucking kitten. Not even a year and a half old. I hate this world.
Make a donation to a cure. Someone. Anyone. Please. Orion Foundation
To make matters worse last night was stupid fucking new years. Fuck 2004, fuck 2005 and every year thereafter. I dumped my stupid "boyfriend". I told him all of the reasons I hated him. I told him to never come back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. So why the hell do I love him? Why does it pain me each time I hear his voice? Why the hell do I respond each time I see that stupid Messenger window pop open?
Maybe it is myself that I hate.
Myself and fucking rag cramps.
I'm going to bed. Not to sleep, to think.
Okay it's later. Um... where to start? So much has happened... it's over and above what words can convey.
December 30th my boyfriend... ex-boyfriend?... took my cat out to Oakbank so he could be taken into his regular vet. Something was very wrong. We both knew it, but didn't want to believe it. His stomach had swelled horribly. He must have gained 15 lbs in one week, yet he wasn't eating. We could feel his spine. My cat was dying and we both knew it.
December 31st my cat was taken to the vet at 7:30 a.m. The vet called me at work at 10:00 a.m. right as I walked off the elevator. Karen, the receptionist, called to me to take the call at my desk, that "the doctor" was calling. Sure enough, the doc from the animal hospital. Fuck was I scared to take that call. "I have good news" is how it all began... He said my cat didn't have a bladder blockage, which was "good news!" But then he said "which means it could be one of many possible problems." Fuck.
I waited another two hours then he called me back. I had already been freaking out worried sick about my cat for the entire morning. Then came the final blow... "it's terminal". Christ. My cat had F.I.P. a fatal viral disease. It caused his abdomen to swell with fluid, he wasn't eating, he was dying. There was no cure. No real treatment. No explanation of how he even got sick. What the hell is research for?
I left work. Two hours later my boyfriend and I were at the vet saying goodbye to my little boy. He was so scared. The girl placed him on the table wrapped up in a blanket and I could see the fear in his eyes. He moved as close as he could to me and rested his little head on my arm. He stayed cuddled close to me the entire time. Each time he looked up at me with those big round eyes I could tell he just wanted to go home. He wanted to be well again. We stayed with him for three hours comforting him and ourselves. I've never made such a horrible decision in my life as I did that afternoon. Euthenasia. It had to be done... he was in too much pain... he wouldn't live longer than a few days even with "treatment". I would give anything to have him back. I miss him more than anything.
So here I sit tears running down my face. Missing my little boy. My best friend. It's not fair. He was only a fucking kitten. Not even a year and a half old. I hate this world.
Make a donation to a cure. Someone. Anyone. Please. Orion Foundation
To make matters worse last night was stupid fucking new years. Fuck 2004, fuck 2005 and every year thereafter. I dumped my stupid "boyfriend". I told him all of the reasons I hated him. I told him to never come back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. So why the hell do I love him? Why does it pain me each time I hear his voice? Why the hell do I respond each time I see that stupid Messenger window pop open?
Maybe it is myself that I hate.
Myself and fucking rag cramps.
I'm going to bed. Not to sleep, to think.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
People tell me that an animal is just an animal, and I shouldn't get sad like if a human died, but the real thing is that a pet is just as much of your life as some one you love.
The thing with your ex-boyfriend, well it's just going to take time to get over. Love can be the best and worst thing in the world. It's been three weeks now since I split up with my girlfriend; the girl I was going to ask to marry me on Friday night. If you look at me on the outside you would think that I wasn't that broken up about it, but the truth is that I'm a fucking wreck about it. I don't know how many times I put her number in my phone and just stare at the send button, how many times I stay awake at night talking to her as if she was right there, or how many times I read through all the emails and letters she sent me. When you are in love with some one and you break up with them, your first instinct is to be mad at them and tell them you hate them. That makes it easier to deal with the pain, but that hate will soon fade.
If you need any one to talk to, I'm here for ya. Take care.