Caterwauling

RIP, sweet little warrior

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

God never closes a door without leaving me wanting to jump out a window.

Isn’t that how the saying goes?

So, about that amazing little cat I met last night. … I called those evil bastards at Animal “Care” and Control this morning, after a colleague and I looked for him on their Web site. When he wasn’t there, I should have been prepared for that call.

They could verify what he looked like, who took him there, what time he got there, and that’s about it. They euthanized him last night.

I of course was not happy. There was supposed to be a note on my file that I’d be calling. I wanted this cat. Of course, calling Animal Control to take him wasn’t the smartest thing in that case, but you know, I didn’t have any better ideas at the time.

I pleaded with the “officer” (WTF is up with all these 21-year-olds calling themselves “officer”?) to tell me what tests they ran, what they did to help him. Did they give him fluids? Anything that resembled a test or a workup?

Nope.

I know he was sick. I wouldn’t have been able to keep him or care for him. Like the “officer” last night, this one noted how dirty he was. Like one of God’s creatures being dirty and in need of help automatically disqualifies them from getting it.

I’m very sad right now. Anger is bubbling up, too. Mostly at myself because I know better than to trust medical personnel of any kind.

I was driving home tonight, sobbing of course, and luckily not hitting anyone or anything. And I remembered how I was struggling to conjure up his name, like a cat whisperer or something.

It occurred to me tonight that he might never have had a name.

It also occurred to me that my photos might have been the only ones ever taken of him.

And that my mom and I were possibly the only ones to ever hug him and love him.

I thank all my friends who were praying for him last night. We were probably the only ones who ever loved and rooted for this wonderful little guy.

Mom called me this morning to say she had come up with his name.

“Lucky,” she said.

“Lucky?” I asked, thinking that cat had anything BUT luck, and this was before we knew the fuckers at the shelter eradicated his existence with nary an examination.

“He’s lucky that he found you,” she said.

I wouldn’t go that far. God knows I’m cursing my luck more than usual tonight.

But I’m lucky I got to meet him, and give him the love that he’d probably never known.

I’m the lucky one, indeed.

Goodbye, little guy. Tell Maddie that her Mommy misses her more than ever right now. And I hope to meet you both when I get to where you are.

I always call my mother “Snow White,” as she always adopts the neighborhood strays and feeds them and gives as much love as she can to these feral animals.

Last night I was working in my apartment around 9 p.m. and she called to say there was a sick kitty down by our pool. (The pool I haven’t set foot near in the two months I’ve lived here due to lack of time.) I was like, mmhmm, OK. Fine. Whatever. Can I get back to work now?

She called back later to ask if I’d bring down some food. For once, I didn’t even argue, since I had been thinking about that kitty for an hour.

He was very sweet, very docile and very sick. Reminded me of Maddie in her final days. Very weak, very loving, very wobbly. I’d guess kidney failure for him, too. Gorgeous black cat with white paws and the sweetest face you can possibly imagine.

I held him for an hour or so before calling the county animal control. It took the guy another hour to get to me. I continued to try to get the kitty to eat and basically just tried to keep him warm with the towel I’d brought down to cloak his bony body.

It hurt to part with him — it was like handing Maddie over to the vet techs, all over again. I cried for a good hour. I’m still very sad now.

I always stop and wonder “why” — why did this cat cross our paths? Was this a chance for me to do something good or heroic or make up for Maddie’s miserable end?

I lined the kitty’s cage with my towel. I guess I just wanted him to remember that, as he was whisked away, he was loved … even if only for a few hours.

I asked if I could get an update on him and they said I could call the office today. The guy also said, “Well, we DO have plenty of OTHER pets waiting to be adopted.” *kick*

What I find funny is that it’s easier to find immediate shelter and care for a cat than it is for a human. Actually, it’s not funny. It pisses me off.

But I’m sure, like Maddie and my grandfather and my grandmother before that, the medical staff will give up on them before they even get there. Too old, too ragged, too sick.

And I feel bad, too. If I didn’t see a Maddie-sized vet bill for a cat I had just met, I probably would have taken him to the emergency vet myself.

I’m saying a prayer for my little four-pawed warrior and hoping that he’s comfortable. And I’m saying a prayer to thank God that I could fall in love so easily with another cat, so soon after losing my own. I never thought it would happen.