Rose Parade

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Saturday, September 03, 2005

WilmaWatch 2005: Saturday Night Edition

The downward march continues. She's curled up in my lap right now. She hasn't eaten in over 24 hours, although she has been drinking water. There were a couple moments today that I thought it was over, but no matter how dire her situation gets her heart just won't give in, even though I've told her it's okay to go. I mean it's not, but it would be selfish of me to lay that on her now. I learned something new today: The Los Angeles City Bureau of Sanitation is responsible for the removal and disposal of dead animals. You call and they send a driver for pickup. I did not know that. I thought you took them to the vet or an animal shelter. I've been thinking about things that I will not be doing once she's gone. This Christmas I won't be sending her a card. I always mail her one, show it to her and make a big deal about it when it arrives, then put it up with my cards. I won't be cleaning up tufts of shed hair or cat barf or hairballs. I won't be putting things like "litter", "dry food" and "canned food" on my shopping list. I will not be automatically sharing any meal that includes chicken or tuna. When I'm sitting on my bed writing on my laptop, I won't be reaching over her to type because she insists on wedging herself right in front of me, nor will I be getting that injured/put out look when I finally move her because she's in the way. I won't have to make sure she's not in the doorway before I close the front door, which is heavy and would crush her if it even closed gently on her. I also will never pet her or hear the many variety of purrs she has. And I will never again assume that she's always going to be around just because she always has been.


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