Robot From The Future! » sad

Today’s Playlist

Stella — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 19:19:13 +0000

This morning I was half-asleep and I reached for the spot where Ripley should have been sleeping. Nothing was there. I jolted awake and realized why she was gone. I didn’t think I had any more tears left, but I was wrong. I’m going to need all the power of my music collection to get through this day.

“Makambo” — Geoffrey Oryema
“Hold On” — The Cottars
“The Green Fields of France” — Dropkick Murphys
“You’ve Got a Friend” — Carole King
“Let it Be” — The Beatles
“Headphones” — Björk
“Going to California” — Led Zeppelin
“Reverie” — Claude Debussy
“Aqueous Transmission” — Incubus
“Silent All These Years” — Tori Amos
“Baluchitherium” — Van Halen
“Under the Bridge” — Red Hot Chili Peppers
“No Holly for Miss Quinn” — Enya
“This Is to Mother You” — Sinéad O’Connor
“Piano Sonata No. 8 – Sonata Pathétique” — Ludwig van Beethoven
“Guinnevere” — Crosby, Stills and Nash
“Imagine” — John Lennon
“Sleep Warm” — Cornelius
“We Will Become Silhouettes” — The Postal Service
“Did You Miss Me Today” — Sliotar
“Feel it Now” — Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
“Eastern Rain” — Fairport Convention

Story of an Hour

Stella — Thu, 13 Jan 2011 00:23:13 +0000

Reposted from today’s Twitter stream. I spent the last hours of Ripley’s life holding her on my lap while we sat in bed together.

10:44 am: Story of an Hour: Ripley is curled up in her favorite blanket, sleeping on my lap. She huddles to get warm so I tuck her in a bit closer.

10:53 am: She’s warmed up a bit, so she stretches and extends her front leg out to dangle over my arm. She rests her head with a labored sigh.

11:07 am: Ripley struggles a little to get a full breath of air. I can do nothing to help.

11:16 am: She looks up to demand some scratching behind her ears. I oblige and am rewarded with licking on my fingertips.

11:35 am: She’s dreaming. Her face twitches and she gives a little happy grumble. Is she chasing ribbon? Pouncing on a mouse?

11:37 am: And now she’s awake and wants loves. Purr, purr purr.

11:43 am: Playing with string while we get the cat carrier.

11:44 am: Running and hiding from the cat carrier.

11:45 am: Time to go.

Goodbye

Stella — Wed, 12 Jan 2011 20:00:44 +0000

Today, now, as this is published, I am at the veterinarian’s office so Ripley can be humanely put to death. Her biopsy revealed that the cancer was even more aggressive than we previously thought, and the weeks we had left with her turned into days. She’s been huddling for warmth lately and has been sleeping even more than usual. I noticed on Sunday that her breathing was growing faster and shallower, and by Monday morning she started to wheeze. A few phone calls and one panic attack later, the arrangements were made. Humanely ending her life is the right decision, but I am having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that we have made the decision to end my cat’s life, so strictly speaking it isn’t the cancer that will kill her. I know I am not what’s killing her, but I killed her.

We learned from the biopsy that Ripley’s cancer — fibrosarcoma — was caused by one of the vaccinations she received to prevent her from contracting rabies, Feline Immunodeficiency Virus, or the virus that causes feline leukemia. It’s a rare complication that only occurrs in about 1 in 10,000 cases of cat vaccinations and usually results in aggressive tumors that are next to impossible to treat. That’s small enough odds that it comes nowhere close to negating the value of preventing FIV, leukemia and rabies through vaccination. But it doesn’t take the sting out of this happening to poor little Ripley. One bit of consoling information that the veterinary surgeon gave me is that since his cats are entirely indoor cats, he opts to have blood samples drawn annually for testing rather than vaccinating. Cats can still get a rabies certificate that way. I intend to do that from now on with Loki. The odds of having this happen to him are tiny, but lower risk preventative care is preferable and will give me more peace of mind.

I don’t have peace of mind today, though. She spent this morning wrapped in her favorite blanket sleeping on my lap, peacefully ignorant that these were her last hours. My little buddy is gone. All the little pet names I had for her — Sugar Booger, Big Sister, The Princess — are not words I will get to say any more as I see her face peeping around a corner or looking up from her favorite napping place.

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

It’s one of those days . . .

Stella — Tue, 04 Jan 2011 20:38:16 +0000

. . . where I feel like the universe hates me. The last couple of months have been pretty rough on a personal level, but this is a bit more than I can handle.

Ripley has got a tumor. I’ll find out this afternoon if it’s operable, how much suffering it would cause her to remove it, and whether I can even afford the procedure.

Dear asshole forces of the universe: leave my poor little kitty cat alone.

Why I don’t need to see Avatar

Stella — Wed, 06 Jan 2010 01:09:14 +0000

James Cameron, you have joined George Lucas on the Dark Side. You’re dead to me now.