Well. Just when I thought I was ready to jump back into the blogging world, something else took over my thoughts. Something I haven't been prepared to talk or write about. Best laid plans and all that, eh?
But, as it seems talking about something bad is a good way to start healing from it, I'm slowly starting to try to do that. So, in that vein...
Remember how I said George Kitteh was not so well? And how we had high hopes for his recovery? Sadly, those hopes did not pan out. After a couple of weeks back home, George took a bit of a downturn and had to go back to the hospital. I should have started preparing myself for the worst when his doctor took one look at him and said "I'm putting him in the ICU." That was last Thursday.
Jason was in London, but thankfully got home on Friday. We went to visit George that night. And again on Saturday morning. And again on Saturday evening. And then the phone rang at about 11:00 on Saturday night. When you get to be 33 years old, you know that no good can result from any phone call that comes at that hour. I took one look at the caller ID, threw the phone at Jason and immediately burst into tears.
As expected, the news was not good. George was slipping away and they were certain he wouldn't make it through the night. So we got out of our pjs and got back in the car to make the by-now-too-familiar drive to the vet hospital. George looked pitiful. He couldn't even lift his head. After discussing things with his doctor and asking all those questions you never wanted to have to ask, we made the decision we thought was best for George.
We stayed with him through the end, tears flooding down both our faces. And just like that, for the first time in 12 years, we had only one pet.
And that's about all I'm prepared to say on the subject for now.
So, mainly as a catharsis for me, let's take a look back at the early days of George.
Our first, very blurry, family portrait.
"Who are these people? Wait? Wha..? You're my parents now? But you don't even have fur! I'm doomed."
He met his first friend at a young age. (Turtle was sadly lost in our move from Greensboro to Raleigh.)
"What do you mean you can't fist bump? Okay, let's head bump instead."
In his formative years, he showed great promise as a model. He practiced all the time.
And then, with no notice whatsoever, his life was flipped arse over teakettle with the addition of Elwin.
George was unsure at first.
But he was soon won over and took Elwin under his wing.
"Okay, I'll share. But you stay on your side. And the teddy bear has to go. Three's a crowd."
He taught Elwin all the important stuff.
"And after your paws, you get as much of your belly as you can. But you've really got to get those paws clean first."
George has always enjoyed a nice roaring fireplace.
"Well hello ladies."
Even if he did have trouble with telling the difference between a real one, and an iPad app one...
"Seriously guys, why can't I feel the heat from this one? Weird."
He mysteriously lost feeling in the end of his tail about five years ago and consequently, would sometimes do things like this without knowing.
But the best thing about George was how much he loved Baby Bear. We got him this little catnip toy when we moved to Raleigh and realized Turtle had been lost. It was true love at first sight. George carried Baby Bear in his mouth everywhere he went. To bed. To the food bowl. Everywhere. And if one of us was sick or upset, he could tell. He would use Baby Bear to try and comfort us. Like when I found out I didn't get that job I really really wanted last summer, I laid on the couch and cried my eyes out. George carried Baby Bear over, jumped up on the couch, dropped Baby Bear next to my face and went to the other end of the couch and then laid down by my feet.
But while it's nice to dig out all these old photos and remember George as a kitten; in the end, Elwin has lost a brother and best friend...
And we have lost our sweet boy.