Caper

Our beloved little cat was put to sleep this morning. I’m not sure exactly what time — between 9.15 and 10am, somewhere. Naturally, we’re all distraught. I think it was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t mean it’s not upsetting. It is. No one ever wants to lose a loved one.

After my post on the sixth, Caper did not eat again. She refused. There was nothing that would entice her, and nothing we could do to force her. She’d drink a little water now and again, but touched nothing else. No cream, no mince, no bacon, no fish, no cat food. She considered stealing Tigger’s cat food at one point, which was encouraging, but she decided against it, which was not.

Cat illness

One of my cats, Caper, is extremely sick right now and may be close to dying. I guess this knowledge hasn’t sunk in yet, because I’m not feeling really upset. Anxious, perhaps. Not upset.

Since October, Caper has lost a lot of weight. I’ve posted pictures of her before — in particular, look at this one and this one. See how adorably plump she was? Midway through November, Caper was much, much thinner than that. Very bony. When you tried to stroke her back, all you could feel was spine. She barely ate, and she seemed to be wasting away.

The things cats do

Cats don’t have consciences. Of course, I knew this before today, so it’s not exactly a revelation. It’s just that today I got a lot of proof.

Extremely early this morning (when I’d only been sleeping for an hour), my cats had a fight in my room. They always fight, because they hate each others’ guts, and usually the situation can be easily defused. I yell at Tigger (because Tigger’s always the aggressor), he scarpers, Caper sidles up for a cuddle to comfort herself, and all is well with the world. Tigger has obviously never felt any guilt about it, but what happened in today’s fight was — to me — so horrifying that, just today, it rankles.