Best Mystic Evar.

I don't care what anyone says. That is the most accurate psychic evar.

Something Happy, for a change.

Here's something that always makes me happy, Maru. Maru should make everyone happy because he's such a sweet kitten.

Not so Happy Holidays

It's that time of year again when everyone starts in the nonsense about the war on Christmas and consumerism takes over everything as stores try to lure the unwary to them to spend their entire paycheck on frivolous things they don't really need. Oh, and that good old family dysfunction that goes so well with the yearly gatherings where everyone is supposed to play nice with others and try to not get so drunk that they actually tell their family what they think of them. Putrid Christmas carols dominate radio and all the stores for a cloying nauseating mix.

Personally, I prefer to avoid all of that. Thanksgiving was a few scant days ago, before that major holiday of the shopper Black Friday. Everyone was talking about the niceties of spending time with their family for the day and making gluttons of themselves over turkey and all the trimmings. I didn't participate in such matters nor did I jump into the twitter war over how it must suck to be an atheist on Thanksgiving because, you know, atheists don't have anything to be thankful for because they don't believe in god.

Whatever. I was thankful that I didn't have to deal with that nonsense of my family and work on that day because I was dealing with something that isn't pleasant. I am a great animal lover. I love my animals. There was one point in time that I was foolish enough to have seven cats. Unfortunately, now only 3 of that original posse is left. My only male cat, Erebus, who I have had since he was 3 months old, had to be put to sleep on Friday morning. The prior weekend he decided that he didn't want to eat as much as he had been, which was the week prior 4 to 5 cans of cat food a day. And he wasn't fat, he was actually pretty skinny because he had another episode like this a few months back and had lost a drastic amount of weight.

By Wednesday night he was refusing to eat all together, even if I was handfeeding him with a food syringe that I had to use with other cats that I lost due to their inability to eat. All he wanted to do was drink water. By Thursday, he was very weak and didn't want to even move. He just laid quietly with his eyes open. He gave me no indication of pain, and it was profoundly sad and very heartbreaking. I was just trying to keep him comfortable, knowing that he was dying. It's a sad thing being so powerless and had I known that he was going to be suffering like that all day on Thursday, I would have taken him to the vet on Wednesday and let him go peacefully.

At least he was not alone and knew that he was loved during the time that he did have to endure that. He was finally allowed to go peacefully on Friday morning. I couldn't be there. Not because I was unable to get away from my job or anything like that. I couldn't do it. After having three other cats put to sleep, no matter how peaceful it was, I couldn't do it. I could barely do it the last time, and it's not because I don't agree with letting those who are suffering just go to sleep. It's incredibly compassionate to relieve that suffering and just let them go to sleep. And that is what happens. It is quick and painless and over in less than a minute. It's the fact that you have to let something that is very important to you go, knowing you will never see them again, unless it is in pictures or video.

I know that when I get home he won't be sitting just inside the door yelling at me to give him food and give it to him now. I know that he won't be sitting next to my chair, putting a paw on my knee to get my attention so he can get in my lap. I know that he won't dart into the bedroom at night and paw my bed with the loudest purr ever in slow motion. I know his glowing white belly won't be presented for rubs. I know that his little orange butt won't be leading the way to the bedroom every time I walk down the hall because he constantly want to go paw the bed. And I know that he won't be on the back of my chair or on the back of the couch trying to give my head a bath. He won't be preening whenever he sees a camera, begging for a picture to be taken. He won't be vying for attention from our former neighbors when they come for a visit nor will he lick Jason's shaved head again while we all laugh. And it's sad and painful. He lived with us for 12+ years and it's going to be hard to get over that.

That was my wonderful Thanksgiving. The thing that tops it all though, is the fact that I never heard a peep out of my family. They didn't call. They didn't email. They did nothing. That's not really all that surprising. I become more and more estranged from them all the time. Not because we have disagreements, but because I moved away and am on my own. I don't move back to mom and dad's house every time my life turns to shit. I think they resent that a little. The fact that I don't come banging down the door if my life is horrible. I'm an adult, and somehow I've turned into the responsible one and I don't come to see them every week. Sorry. I do have a life that doesn't have to revolve around the little hick town my dad retired to. That's pretty much how I feel about it too. Oh well, it's their loss if they want to ignore another one of their children. It's not like it hasn't gotten worse every year, and I've been away from there for 14 years. I guess it just happens.