It saddens me greatly to have to report that our house has suffered a very personal loss.
Our dear, old Poo Cat has passed away.
As near as we can guess, Poo (originally named Patience by someone much more mundane than ourselves) was at least 6 months older than Pip (our Teen Queen who is now nearly 18). Poo's original (mundane) owner was going to live overseas, and asked my husband if he would adopt the shy, caramel-tortoise calico. Being a sucker for such things, R said that he'd be happy to take her in.
While my husband and I were dating, I think that I only saw that cat once or twice. She spent most of her days hiding from pretty much everyone and everything.
In the life that's happened since we got married, Poo eventually warmed up to being with us and was a surrogate mother to our other cats (now nearly 10 and 11 years old). In the past few years, she'd even had occasional bouts of kitten-like play!
Alas it was not to continue forever. Over the course of the past six months or so, it has seemed that it was getting harder for her to get around our apartment (which we call 'Lilliput' --for a reason). Since Easter-time she hadn't been able to climb into the litter box due to rheumatism (I suppose). My guess is that she suffered some kind of stroke late Saturday afternoon and didn't recover. She was still lying on her favorite chair and breathing when I left for work yesterday, but was lifeless when I returned.
There is now a newly seeded patch of dirt out by the garage. --Don't tell the landlord.
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2 comments:
Alas Poor Poo, I knew her well. Poor kitty...how are the other cats handling the loss? Are they wearing black kitty armbands in mourning? Oh sad day...
Well, Argyll's little black armband blends into his fur and Ishmael refuses to wear one. We spend $60 every three months to shave him into a lion, he doesn't want to ruin the sillouette of the cut.
Seriously though, Argyll has been wandering the apartment whining. It's not that Ishmael isn't affected, it's more that he didn't hang out much with Poo.
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