Tag Archives: cat

Kevin Kevlar, 1990-2010

Kevin died on August 2.  Literally on the eve of my departure.  She was killed and eaten by something a little ways from our house.  I didn’t know she wandered that far.  All that was left was fur; enough to recognize her.

Certainly my mourning is interrupted;  the only night I’ve spent at home since, I dreamed the whole night she was tucked in by my side as usual, and it will take more time at home, thinking I see her following me, or sitting in the field, to adjust to the idea that she isn’t here anymore.

My friend says that guilt is a common factor in grief- if there was anything I could have done differently, if I had come home ten minutes earlier, what if she was out wandering because she was hungry.  I really wanted her to live out her whole potential life, to go in her sleep curled in a peaceful knot on my bed.  I’m glad two of my friends have lost animals that were the closest of friends; they understand.

I’ve never lost any”one” so close to me.  I’ve had my little cat by my side for nine years, falling to sleep together for 100s of nights, and I’ve never spent so much time with any”one” or anything.  She taught me so much about love.  It took me a long time to get used to her (I’m not a natural cat person, but I became one) and learn to accept her, but I ended up loving her so much.  And of course, she was just such a cool cat, even though she was getting pretty frail.

It’s a giant loss.  I have all the symptoms of grief- can’t believe she’s really gone, guilt and regret, avoiding thinking about it to not let in the loss, crying suddenly at awkward times, like when I see a cat graphic on a T-shirt and remember that I don’t have a cat any more.  I feel like my heart is broken and missing a piece, and that I’ll miss her forever, because there is only one tiny cat with a big personality just like her.

Was.

Kevin’s trip to the vet

Looking barely there, poor cat. The back seat is full of crated windows for the barn, and she's hiding under them.

We have an illness in the family.  Kevin started doing this weird teethgrinding thing that sounded like she’s chewing rocks a couple days ago.  She would sometimes paw at her mouth, too, even trying to use two paws at once, which made her tip over suddenly.  That part was funny, or would have been if the sound weren’t so alarming.

Off to the vet we went, for the second time in eight years.  I was worked right up, after being told the danger of anesthetic to a cat that old, totally worried and grief-stricken at the possibility of surgery that could kill her.

Fortunately, she lives on.  Fortunately on two counts.  One of her teeth is fractured off at the gum line, exposing a nerve, but that’s better than a broken jaw, and can heal over without dental surgery.  She is also starting to have kidney failure, which I wouldn’t have known was manageable or wouldn’t have caught in time without this visit to the vet under other auspices.  Its normal for an old cat to have kidney issues, and I would have thought it was simple decline due to age if I saw her getting sickly.  Otherwise remarkable health, not surprising.

So, she has to have antibiotics, painkillers injected and oral, and she has to go on an “iv” drip every day for two weeks to rehydrate and help “kickstart” her normal kidney function.  Continue reading Kevin’s trip to the vet

Fat cat; raw cat food recipe

The queen in her cozy glory

Kevin is bobbing her head to smell the air as I stir up a batch of bloody meat, liver, and kelp for her.  What is that alluring aroma?

I was concerned about Kevin having enough meat on her bones to stay well as it gets colder.  She had a little sneeze for a week that made me feel terrible.  Seeing as our environment is only partly temperature-controlled, and she’s so skinny, I went on a campaign to  fatten her up, and it’s working!

The chicken hearts were a big hit.  Sometime after those, she noticeably put on some weight, and now she looks more proportional for her petite size.  Continue reading Fat cat; raw cat food recipe

Two days left to move.

Did a tiny batch of canning today with the last hours of stove ownership.  Gorgeously blood red plums and some pears, although found peeling the green pears terribly tedious.

Kevin showed her first signs of alarm when the fridge left.  I got the WTF meows and tail-twitching suspicious staring at the place where the fridge was.  I was surprised at this.  Whole house has been in furious uproar for weeks and whole rooms are totally emptied.  Even her favorite recliner got taken away, but no, it’s the fridge’s disappearance that gets noticed.  She doesn’t even get fed out of it.  She just sits in front of the door and gets whacked with it several times a day.

And so: a moment of humour.  I didn’t do it!  I just walked in and saw this and tried to get the picture before I died laughing.  She’s still sound asleep in the After picture.

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After.
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Before.

Cat contentment

Shouldn’t have worried about Kevin coping with the move.  What with all the shuttling of boxes and stuff, the removal of furniture including her favorite chair, and the general furor, I thought she might feel insecure and fear being abandoned.

In fact, she’s actually become more content.  I suppose these days more closely resemble the construction zone atmosphere prevalent in the last 6 years (which she was quite at home with), than the rigid and sterile home-on-display-for-sale stasis of the past 6 months (which caused much confused querulous meowing: “What, no power tools?  Too quiet around here.”).

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...caught in the act of licking her lips, too

And heaven-above, during moving time, are there BOXES!  Boxes everywhere, boxes galore, boxes of all sizes to try out, new ones added daily!  Box pictured, offering ample stretching capacity, great views of food and water dishes, and overlooking possible fridge door openings, has clearly been “favorited”, so no chance of actually using it for packing.

We’ll probably carry her from the house in it.