tomo · the · cat

I knew that taking in a stray that had spent at least three days under a porch would probably not be all sunshine and roses, but I really thought Mochi was doing okay all things considered. The vet said so too. And today he told me I should put her down.

Yesterday when I brought her home, she was walking around, exploring, and constantly trying to get into my lap or my mom's lap. She didn't seem too interested in any toys or food/water, but I thought maybe she was just overwhelmed and she would come to those things when she had a chance to compose herself. She slept through the night, and this morning she was crying for me to let her out of the crate. When I did, she climbed into my lap and purred, and if I put her on the floor she would climb back up. She seemed a bit dazed from her big day yesterday but nothing that had me truly worried.

Her food and water were untouched this morning, and still untouched when I came home. I knew something was wrong immediately. She was lying on her side in the litter box with her left paws hanging over the edge like she'd been trying to climb out. I called her, and she meowed at me but couldn't get up. I picked her up and put her on the floor, and she sat, wobbled, fell over. Eventually she managed to get to me. I suspected this was a severe case of dehydration and I was going to call my vet. I picked her up so I could get her into the carrier, and she began squirming wildly and crying. I set her on the ground and she smooshed her cheek against the ground (like her neck was broken) and started crying and squirming.

I took her to the vet, and she was severely dehydrated and malnourished, and her blood sugar and temp were low. Which I suspected. I'd been planning to buy an eyedropper after work to force some water into her if her water was untouched.

But there was a bigger problem. The vet said that her ribcage is deformed. Or, his words, "she's deformed." Rather than the typical rounded ribcage, she has a V shaped ribcage, which, according to the vet, means there won't be room for her heart or other organs to grow, which may be why her heartrate and temperature were so low.

They injected her with some water, and in minutes she was alert and stretching and fighting the force-feed. Her heartrate was up, too.. And I really really thought she might have a chance. The vet said she probably wasn't going to make it, and I thought "whatever dude, she's just dehydrated and she's doing better." They gave me some glucose in a syringe and some empty syringes for water, and some paper litter for her, and sent me on my way.

I took her home and set her on the floor. She immediately climbed into my lap. After a while, she just stared up at me with this lonely look on her face, like "you're too far away" and she clawed her way up to my shoulder. After that, she was walking around, and she even took a normal poop.

Then, a couple of hours ago, she did that squirm thing, fell, cried, and never got up. When I started this post at about 7 PM, she was still walking around, but now it's 10:25 PM and she's taken a horrible turn. She cries and gags, but can't move. She's completely limp.

We have to put her down.... The vet hospital that's open 24 hours is being redone or something (I called a while back about another matter and they were closed). I think I have to call the vet's emergency line. I'm going to have to wake up my mom and tell her.... I've never had to put an animal down and I'm horrified. This poor innocent, beautiful kitten trusted me and came to me, and she was just so content to be in my lap. All she wanted was a mommy, someone in the world to care for her. I'm heartbroken. I feel like I totally failed her.

Did I wake up this morning thinking I would leave for work and come home with a kitten?

No.

And did I think my mother, who repeatedly declared, often unprovoked, that she would not tolerate another cat in her house, would be responsible for said kitten's arrival to our home?

Heck no.
( The story )

And oh yeah, her name is Mochi ^_^

I grew up as a Born Again Christian. When I was little, and Sunday school filled my little, impressionable mind with love and acceptance for all people, I honestly thought it was a good thing. It wasn't until I was a little older that I realized how condescending so many of those statements are. For example, in the church I attended when I was younger, a teenage girl came home pregnant. Her father, a church elder, held a big meeting with the other church elders, and they had her banished from the church.

Her father. Had her banned from the church.

This girl, I might add, was a compassionate and wonderful human being. She handled her pregnancy very responsibly, found stability, and has never been anything less than a wonderful mother. Any parent should have been proud of her self-awareness and kindness.

After much deliberation, they welcomed her back into the church, making themselves seem 'Christian' and 'forgiving' by allowing her back into their elitist 'religious' establishment. They should never have banned her in the first place. Churches shouldn't ban people. They should be accepting of everyone without making them feel as though they need to atone for themselves before setting foot in the door. As my awareness expanded, I began to notice more things, like "Love and accept everyone. Even the homosexuals. Show them the light and forgive them for their sins."

Is it just me or is that obnoxiously condescending? Maybe it's just me, but I don't think people should be judged by other people. If you're gay, be gay. Don't be sorry that you're gay. Don't pray every night hoping to wake up in a football jersey loving vaginas. Just be who you are. And if you're pregnant and (gasp) not married, make a responsible decision, but don't throw yourself upon the altar weeping.

I guess I just don't define Godliness as loving others IN SPITE OF their sins. In fact, I don't love everyone. Most people annoy me. But they have the right to do the things that annoy me. I guess this is why I don't go to church anymore, or why I no longer define myself as a Christian, though that's my answer if anyone asks.

This all builds up to my point. Just now I was perusing through a Christian group one of my facebook friends just joined, and it was entitled "Jesus was not a politician." I thought it might be open-minded, and actually had a spark of hope that there was a group of people who saw things my way. Then, no joke, I saw this comment:

i know homosexuals to befriend can be elusive, so i'm volunteering. i don't really know why i'm the target market or what i'm the target market for, but here i am.

setting out to befriend the homosexuals, the liberals, the blacks, the criminals, and the lost is good,

What is wrong with people?

I've never understood people who know everybody's business. I could never get into gossip. Sure, I know who to avoid in school, who said this or did that, but in my heart of hearts I don't care, and I'm always surprised when someone knows MY business and I don't even know their name. But whatever. I tend to breeze through life caring very little about the people who don't directly affect my life, and don't really give two stinky green turds what they have to say about me.

Until they just flat out lie.

We have these neighbors who are in the condo across from us, right, and they know EVERYBODY'S business. Yours, mine and your grandmother's. Don't know how, don't care. I park my car by the basement so I can use the back door and never see them, because they're always outside. It's an older woman, her daughter, her daughter's husband and their two very small children. So how any of them have time to shoot the shit is beyond me, really. But I avoid them because I'll be going to take the trash out or something, and I can't get down the walkway without a hundred questions about how's school? and did you meet the new neighbor? and I just don't wanna hear it. Plus, their little boy is always trying to pet Tailor when the poor dog is trying to cop a squat.

So today, around 5:00 on a Sunday evening, one of them, the older one, rings our doorbell and ends up talking to my mom. After she leaves, my mom tells me that the neighbors just accused me of taking the dog out without a leash, letting her poop in front of their condo and then not picking it up. Not only that, they claim they see me do it "all the time."

Now anyone who knows ANYTHING about me knows I'm neurotic about unleashed animals. I don't let my cat out, and yet, she has a little leash for when I take her to the vet. I NEVER ever ever unleash my dog. Ever. In fact I used to get on my dad's case about it because when he did it she got skunked. Also, if the dog has to poop, I'm too lazy to deal with it so my mom always walks her after her meal. If you have a pet, you probably know their schedule. The dog poops in the morning before my mom leaves for work, while I'm still in bed. And in the evening, when my mom gets home, while I'm having dinner or taking a shower. I can't remember the last time I took that dog out to take a poop, and if I did, I guarantee it wasn't in front of the neighbor's condo because Tailor only does her business in the woods for some reason I can't figure out, and I'd pick it up. And my mom picks it up. Unless she just carries a plastic bag tied to the leash for decoration, which I doubt.

I knew all this, and my mom knew it too. Plus, there are like a million dogs here, and I see their crap all over the place, not that I really care because it's not like I'm going to frolick barefoot. Yet the neighbors told my mom "Your daughter has been doing this for a long time, but I doubt she's going to stop because her dad even said she doesn't clean up after the dog."

First of all, how fucking condescending, you fucking bitch. Who are you to talk to my mother like I'm a little kid who isn't behaving? I'm going to be 23 in two weeks, do you think you can come to me if you have some kind of problem instead of talking to my mommy? Second of all, my dad has been dead for over a year, so it's PRETTY SAFE TO ASSUME some things have changed since that conversation you supposedly had with him. But hey, pull out a ouija board and ask him if you think you can.

So of course I got irritated when my mom told me all of this, because I was home and they could have talked to me myself. How they can say they "saw" me, I'd love to have heard. So I put on some jeans and a bra and I knocked on their door. No one answered. Knocked again, and this time the older one comes to the door. And she's like "Oh, I know you! I'd NEVER accuse you of doing something like that! If you say it's not your dog then I believe you."

Funny, you had a different story when I wasn't there to defend myself.

Ugh. Neighbors. It's so fucking irritating. I DON'T bother these fucking people. All I ever do is mind my own business. I only ever go outside coming to and from my car. And my poor dog is really old and slow, and has a hard time going out for a walk as it is. She doesn't bark, she doesn't bite or snap or hiss, even though we let their bastard child poke and hit her when she's trying to pee.

God, I hope they move.