The Party That Never Quits

We had a bit of an all night rave here at the Party the other night.

Cora had woken up a couple of times before we went to bed, so I had given her another bottle to settle her down. At about 3:30 she woke up inconsolable, and Adam got up to settle her. Turns out, all those milks had to come out the other end at some point, which they did... beyond the holding capacity of the nappy.

Once we had changed her and her bed linen, we popped her back into bed and went back to bed ourselves.

My cat, Wortel, made himself comfortable on my feet. I was just beginning to doze off when I felt Adam's cat, Snap, walk up to my stomach.

scratch... scratch...

My brain thought "this is not good"

My rest of my body told it to shut up, it was tired.

Less than thirty seconds later, I was out of bed, holding my nightie away from my body and feeling something run down my leg.

"Adam! Your cat PEED on me!!"

grunt... grunt

"No really!  Eeew!!"

"Just get changed and come back to bed."

"Dude, it's through two blankets, a sheet and a puddle on our bed."

"Get out, really?... Oh man."

"This is so gross"

I got changed, found new sheets and blankets and remade the bed... around Adam, who decided it was too cold to move.

Snap was unceremoniously thrown out of our room, and the door shut soundly.

Back in bed, as Adam snuggled up, I asked

"What time is it?"

"Bit after 4."

"Your cat sucks."

The other day, our 6 year old dog killed a cat; her second in as many months. Calcifer was the first. This second cat, we don't know who it belongs to.

Adam and I made the painful decision to have her put down before it became a very big problem, with disasterous results.

We consulted our vet on the matter, as it is only a very newly aquired behaviour. It seems that the dog we took on taught her to chase, and while it couldn't catch the cats, Ruby could.

She never ate them, and so the vet seems to thinks that Ruby was just playing with them and thus killing them by being too rough, or infact, she may have been brining them to us as presents. It is unclear wether or not it was intentional for the cats to die, however, unfortunately, it was the result.

As a result she has aqcuired 'the taste', the vet said, and it would only get worse. She caustioned us that if we decided not to have her put down, we would need to watch her closely around other pets and small children. While both Adam and I believe she would never, ever hurt a child, we decided that it was safer not to play the maybe game.

Adam took her on his own, and he said to the vet that he felt awful, because she wasn't sick, she wasn't really old... there was nothing wrong with her. She was very understanding and supportive of our decision. While she couldn't flat out say 'yes, you need to put her down', one got the impression she felt it the right move. She told Adam that 6 years for a big dog is actually a really good life. It didn't make him feel any better though.

So, if you have a moment, think of Adam, who has felt this very deeply, she was such a pretty, placid dog, and he loved her very, very much. The kids took it hard, but over it already, the way kids are wont to do. I miss her, and I cried my eyes out yesterday to the point they were itchy when I wasn't weeping. We feel guilty, but conflicted in that guilt.

We are grieving.