Another update on Tangie

:( the Cisapride is not working. The only solids Tangie has moved in over a week is from the enemas he's gotten at the vet's office. Those are traumatic for us both. He gets scared when I get the cat carrier out of the garage and tries to run under the bed. At those moments I really, really wish I could pretend that he's okay and let him stay under there where he's comfortable. But then I have to coax him into the carrier and zip up the opening. He starts meowing and acting nervously. He meows the entire way to the vet's office on Barnes Rd. This is not unusual but it kills me every time. I make sure to turn off the radio and roll the windows up so there are no weird outside noises... then I talk to him in the most calming voice I can muster. "It's okay Tangie, they're gonna make you feel better." "They love you there and will take good care of you." I'll usually open the carrier a bit so I can put my hand inside the carrier to pet him. I know this isn't the safest thing to do but I am very careful and mindful when I'm driving. Lately, I've been taking Hwy 26 from my house off Skyline to the Barnes Road exit. Skyline Road has too many turns. I try to console him "we're almost there, Lovey dovey". "Fuzzy bear, what is it?" "It's okay, I'm here." "Is that your tail? Is that your fuzzy tail, lil' bear?" I used to be worried about taking him since it really seemed to affect him. I know it's part of the reality... It's just heartbreaking because he was often incontinent and would have to sit in a dirty carrier until we got home. It was awful to see him that scared of going in the car and to the vet's office.

Yesterday, I was blessed to have a little time with Tangie on my lap, sitting in the glorious sunshine on my back deck. The birds were chirping and bustling in the fallen leaves. It was the perfect temperature.


Earlier in the day, I'll put a towel out there for Tangie to lounge on. He was resting his head on the towel but the rest of his body was on the wooden deck, catching the sun's rays. (actually, as you can see in the photo, he's only go a paw on the towel.)

Gulp... I think we've reached that point. The meds are NOT working. I can't fathom having to decide WHEN to do "this". It seems so fucking arbitrary.. it's not fair!!! It's not fucking fair... I don't want this responsibility to choose to end another creature's life. Especially, when his mind is still there. I know deep down it's the only humane thing to do.. I know, I know.. I fucking know it...

My mind is going back to all those moments we've shared.

* going to the pet store and picking him out of a litter, probably because he was the loudest little guy in the cardboard box.

* bringing him home to my apartment where I wasn't even supposed to have a pet (or at least not without talking to the manager and paying the extra deposit)

* putting him the closet that first day, and being shocked that such a tiny creature could make such a racket.. I was sure I'd have note on my door when I returned from work that day. (none ever came).
* the time I caught him outside on the deck and when I tried to get him, he slipped backward through the opening between the railing and the deck, falling from the 2nd floor into the bushes below. I ran as fast as I could.. I was so freaking scared... when I got down there, he was fine. no injuries.. he was just sniffing around.. that was his first time "outdoors".

* chasing him down the hallway, when the landlord stopped by unexpectedly. D'oh! She never said anything, fortunately.. a really nice woman as I recall.

* Getting Angie because I was worried he was lonely while I was at school or work. 

* Being devastated about my life choices and realizing I was going to have to move back in with my mom temporarily.

* Hugging and cuddling both cats, crying and trying to find comfort in them.

* Moving to PB and being so worried when he wouldn't come home. Scared he'd tried to cross the busy street.. not wanting to let him out of my sight but also realizing that was no life for him being stuck inside that tiny place. Trying to stomach giving him freedom. Hollering his name (probably annoying my neighbors). Being so freaking relieved when he would come home.

* the feeling of joy when I heard his meow like "what's up Dad.. i was just over here checking things out".

* How he'd go on walks with my mom and Toby around the block. They'd walk down the sidewalk while he darted in and out of the bushes but keeping up with them.

* Finally moving down to my place on Long Branch. Having to get comfortable allowing him outside to learn about the new neighborhood. Hoping he didn't try to cross the street.
* Noticing he changed his "favorite spot" week to week...
* Watching him through the window as he lounged on the grass in the sun.
* How he'd make this funny noise when he'd see a bird.. the animal instinct kicking in.. he'd almost quiver with anticipation. And even take a lunge occasionally.
* Chasing him back outside when he'd bring a "present" inside.. once a dead bird, a couple times a dead rodent (mouse).
* The time he got under me trying to get outside.. I stepped on his back leg with my big stupid foot. He had to wear a tiny cast for a few weeks.. He'd get angry and hiss at it and try to shake it off. Being heartbroken watching him walk on three legs to eat and drink from his water bowl.

* The times that I had Kim look after him when I went on vacation. Or Julea. Or Justin & Mary who brought him Christmas dinner leftovers. The way Justin says "Ging". How they said he would go "mad" at the leftovers.
* Preparing to move here to Oregon. Seeing his look of concern as he sniffed the freshly packed boxes stacked in the living room.
* That day: putting both Tangie and Angie in their carriers and into the back of my truck.
* Checking on them after the Laguna Nigel tollbooth and finding Tangie all wet from urine.. feeling bad and wondering what had scared him like that.

* Figuring out how to let them use the litter box while stopped at strange rest stops or gas stations along the way.. worried he'd get out somehow and I'd not be able to find him.
* Stopping at Jeff's and letting them roam free in his room.
* Checking on them at the gas station in Tiburon and seeing Tangie was all wet again (that goddamn dog of Jeff's must have scared him while I was packing the truck.

* Stopping at a Walgreen's to get baby wipes to clean up mah boy... poor lil' guy.
* Driving through the darkness, trying to reach Portland. Watching the thermometer and deciding to rearrange things so they could be inside the cab. Tangie's little peeps telling me he was there. Letting them roam inside the cab while I tried to sleep at that last rest stop north of Salem.
* Pulling up to my new place on SE 56th.. just unpacking my futon mattress and the cat's litter box and food. Then, falling asleep.

* Being awoken by noise from the basement.. realizing it was some workers my new landlady had hired. Getting up to investigate and realizing Tangie was gone. That sinking feeling as I retraced the events.. He was there when I went to sleep.. the workers must have let him slip out. Wanting to throttle them when I asked them and got the "nope.. we didn't see any cats." The FUCK you didn't, you dumb fucking idiots... I'm here in Oregon less than 12 hrs and some dumb fucks let my cat out. I had visions of him getting lost in the neighborhood and running the wrong way. Being one of those people that keeps the signs up well past the reasonable time frame.

* Starting to panic.. Calling my mom in California telling her he was gone. Getting my bike unpacked and making some LOST CAT signs.. talking to neighbors, asking if they'd seen anything. Being devastated when one of them told me she'd seen an orange cat heading north toward Division Street. Being beside myself.. guilt for not taking better care.. feeling helpless because I couldn't have known fucking workers were gonna be messing around AFTER my fucking move-in date..
* Collapsing when I heard Tangie meowing on the front porch.
* Loving him and cuddling him until he was sick of me.

* Taking all sorts of pictures of him.. on that blue plaid chair, up in one of the kitchen cabinets. Sprawled out on the hardwood floor.
* Seeing him in the bushes in the shade.. enjoying the outdoors but being close to home and the food.
* How he begs and desperately wants whatever I'm eating.. even if it's really nothing he'd like.. "Lettuce? Really Tangie?" :)
* Getting him these fleece beds.. so many precious moments.. his left ear folded back, how he flops on the ground when I'm working at the computer in my office. Meowing as soon as I look at him, cuz he's been staring at me the whole time.
* Secretly watching him sniff around in the yard downstairs. How he'd sit on the stairs and just watch the activity. Eating grass. Getting into staring matches with Buddy, the cat next door.
* Seeing him run (or rather waddle as the case is now) down the stair and to the kitchen when I'd say "Food?" or "Hungry" (He knows those words very well.)
* How he nuzzles my chin.. rubbing his whiskers (when I still had a goatee). Or pressing up with the top of his head.

* How he loves to get his ears cleaned with a tissue.. how his toes sorta curl and his back claws jut out. He seems to like it..
* the way he used to sit on the toilet (lid DOWN of course) while I showered and got ready. He'd stand up and sniff the bag of potpourri I had.. I'd scratch his back and he'd arch a little.
* the way he used to make funny noises while eating when he was kitten.. He'd "talk" as he ate.. "mmmeow, mmmmeow, mmmmeow". sorta muffled... it was SO FREAKING CUTE...
* I remember giving him baths as a kitten. putting on swim trunks and going in with him since crouching over the side of the tub was tough.

* how he used to put his front paw in the water bowl when he'd drink.. I don't know if his depth perception was whacked or what. It only seemed to happen with this one bowl I have. I had to switch from granular kitty litter to those wood pellets cuz he'd track it all over the house with his wet paw.
* how he loves lying in the sun on back deck. How he'd roll from side to side.. probably scratching his back.
* How Angie seems to know when something is wrong with him.. she'll come to his side and be concerned. She meows.. She's not doing it now but I know in my heart that his body just isn't working right.. I just cleaned the litter box in case that was contributing to his not using it. (a long shot cuz when you gotta go you gotta go).

The vet said to give them a call if he hadn't produced anything by Monday.. It's Sunday afternoon and there has been no activity in that aspect. He still has a voracious appetite so I know he must be getting increasingly uncomfortable.. though he doesn't even seem to be trying to expel the solids..

I hate hate hate hate hate having to make a decision like this. It's down to when it's convenient for me. On one hand, I desperately want a clearer "sign" that it's the right time. on the other, I don't want him to suffer at all. It's heartbreaking to know that his mind is still alert and how he instantly starts purring when I touch him. I just know that his insides aren't working...


My biggest dilemma is WHERE to do this. on one hand, I don't want his last memories to be scared (going in the cat carrier, the meowing on the way over there, the weird antiseptic smells for the vet's office.. his final moments...) on the other hand, I think they can do "it" here, where he's somewhat comfortable at home, in familiar surroundings.. I feel like a selfish asshole.. I know that's the best option for him but I'm going to have to see the place where it happens everyday (until I move out of here). It's bad enough that I'm going to have to figure out what to do with all this stuff.. I can't fathom having to see it.. I want to remember the good times only.. I'm not sure how I'll cope with his absence. (tears)

I'm also selfish for not giving my other cat the same attention and tribute.. she is almost as old as he is. (Knock on wood) but has been pretty healthy.. hardly any reason to take her to the vet.. I love Angie dearly too.. she is soooo sweet.. I know she going to be lonely when Tangie is gone.. I wonder and worry what effect that might have.


One more thought before I finish this post... I think there will also be a feeling of relief that he lived a great, long life.. I did everything I could to make him comfortable. I know we can't have unlimited time together. I hate change.. this is going to be the biggest one in my adult life. It is something I have to be proactively.. loosing my dad was out of my control..

(tears) I just want to spend a few more quality days with him.. I hope work understands and accommodates my request for time off. I see my counselor again next week.