Sad news. Grumpy Cat (real name Tardar Sauce) passed away from complications of a urinary tract infection. She was only 7. 😢
And here, thanks to Rory of A Guy Called Bloke, is the interview his dog, Scrappy Doodlepip, conducted with my cat, Angelo! You may recall that Rudy, my dog, was also interviewed last year. Please check it out!
Enjoy! If you have fur (or scale, or feathered, etc.) babies and want them to be interviewed, give Doodlepip a shout at email@example.com.
I have 2 cats: Hee Seop (HEE-sop) and Angelo, and both are old. Or I should say that I had 2 cats, since one of them, Hee Seop (pictured here), died last Wednesday evening.
Granted, both cats are almost 18 years old, so part of me expected this, just not so soon. Hee Seop had a low appetite about a month ago, but a trip to the vet and some medication helped.
Since then, he hung out in all of the rooms, not just the bedroom where he and Angelo usually sleep all day. Hee Seop sat in my lap on the sofa, or lay next to my husband on the love seat. He didn’t care if the dog was there or not. He wasn’t afraid of Rudy, anyway.
For months he lay next to my head on my pillow overnight. I used to bury my face in his soft fur. I didn’t give voice to it at the time, but all his affection and spending more time in the living room with my husband and me — I was afraid that Hee Seop was saying goodbye.
Then last Wednesday I was sitting at my desk. I could feel him beneath my chair, walking over its legs that spread out like a spider’s and has wheels on the ends. I thought he was going to sleep in the dog’s bed under my desk, but I heard some weird noises that turned out to be Hee Seop struggling to get out from underneath the chair. His body looked a little odd, and when I saw him move a little, I noticed that his back legs were paralyzed. We took him to the emergency vet immediately.
On the way there, we both mentioned how scared we were that we wouldn’t come home with him. Meanwhile, he was panting and crying very loudly in the back seat. I didn’t know if he was in pain, protesting being in the carrier, or what.
We weren’t at the vet long. The doctor told us that he had a blood clot in his heart. A piece of it broke off and got lodged in his abdomen and blocked the blood supply to his legs, which is why they gave out. I think it’s called a saddle thrombus, and is extremely painful. Fortunately, the vet gave him a pain reliever.
We discussed the prognosis, which the veterinarian said was poor, especially because Hee Seop also had congestive heart failure. They could treat him, but the end result would have been the same as having him humanely euthanized. We chose the latter because we didn’t want to prolong his pain and discomfort.
I’m extremely sad, because Hee Seop was with us since he was a year old. He was a feral cat that showed up on our back porch looking for food, and that I socialized into a tame (but skittish) cat. He isn’t the first cat we needed to have put to sleep. Two others were before him. But it doesn’t get easier. I’m not depressed, which is a good thing. But I think about him a lot.
The parol is to Filipinos as the Christmas tree is to westerners. However, most Filipino Americans put up a Christmas tree, too. Although we had a Christmas tree, my family never had a parol— a star-shaped lantern — when I was growing up, so a few years ago, I decided to get one. But the only one I found online was a do-it-yourself kit that included strips of wood instead of the traditionally used bamboo, and thin, colored paper.
My husband put it together because I’m not particularly crafty or handy. I would have just made a mess of things! Parols usually have a light source, like a candle, inside them so they light up like a lantern. We decided to skip the candles because we considered them, in close proximity to paper, a fire hazard. Little did we know that it was also a dog hazard.
At the end of the Christmas season, we packed up all the decorations and set them in the dining room until the next time we went to our storage space. Before we had a chance to store them, Rudy destroyed the parol! This was before he was crate-trained, so when we went out, he had the run of the house. On a previous occasion he chewed up one of my shoes, which prompted us to crate train him. (Now he goes into the crate on his own when my husband and I are getting ready to leave.) Our cats weren’t guilty because the damage was too great for a cat to have done. Or in our case, 2 cats. It was obvious that the dog did this. Case closed.
Have your fur babies ever destroyed anything while you were out?
Four years ago this past February or March, my husband and I went to the shelter “just to look.” We saw a couple of dogs we might have been interested in, and even one who wasn’t a mangy cur with whom we played. I don’t have problems with mangy curs—at this shelter they take care of those afflicted and nurse them back to health so they can be adopted.
After playing, Rudolf—soon-to-be Rudy—was returned to a room near the seating area where people fill out adoption paperwork and make up their minds. Rudy wasn’t in a kennel surrounded by a chain link fence, but a swanky room with tall windows looking out onto the street. The other side was made of windows that faced the hallway. The walls on the other 2 sides of the room were plastered, and kept the dogs “separated.” He had a roommate, who was in the process of being adopted.
While we sat contemplating whether we should change ours—and the cats’—lives, I heard a man address “Rudolf,” admiring his hazel eyes, and telling his friend, “This guy’s adorable—he’s gonna be adopted soon.”
My ears perked up at that, and I made up our mind — we were adopting Rudy. That day. Turns out that man was right!
Have you ever adopted a shelter dog?