Saturday, 2 October 2010
Peoples, cats, even stupid dog faces should read this. Today is Livestrong Day
to honour all of those who left us through, battled with and survived the dreaded cancer. I've never seen this myself, but the human is very familiar with it. She says:
Many in my family have had cancer, and many have left us because of it, but the one who stands in my mind was my great auntie Irene. She wasn't very old when she passed. Nor was I, actually, but throughout her fight she was cheerful and content. She loved life, and continued to live despite the difficulties chemo through at her. In her last hours she was singing cheerful hymns with the pastor of her church, and instructed us all not to be sad once she'd gone. Tears weren't allowed, she said. Instead we were all to be happy that she'd left her pain and gone to meet her maker.
Irene touched the lives of so many, for she was a well known woman. The only way to measure this is in numbers, and after her death, the family counted. Through her, her sunny outlook on life and her reluctance to give up, 112 people became a Christian, and two of those travelled the world continuing her legacy by journeying to small African villages to help those so desperately in need. Auntie Irene, today, I honour you.
She speaks well sometimes, doesn't she? For me, Livestrong has a slightly different meaning. I extend massive support, as does my human, to those lost through cancer, Snippy, Fat Eric, and all the rest we never met. Mine and the human's lives are all the poorer for not knowing you. I also want to give a huge thumbs up to Zoolatry Girls and their man people
As he fights the good fight.
For me, my Livestrong day is going to be about living without Mummycat. I know I can do it. My human tells me I'm a big, strong girl, and for once, I believe her. I'll be sad for her as well as the cancer victims today though.
To clear up some of the questions in comments, let me explain. Mummycat was born to a breeder who was only interested in money. She was kept in a cattery all of her life, in a small, never-changing, always quiet environment. Peoples were fun to her because pretty much the only times she saw them was when they were bringing food or water, cleaning or snuggling her. Cats were good too. They were her constant companions. When she was bought by the lady people who we owned before the human took us, she also ran a cattery, so Mummycat went into the same conditions again. She's five now, almost six, and has spent her whole life up until a few months ago in the same type of living space. When the human came for us, she took us to a house. It was busy. There were stupid dog faces. There were vacuums. Worst of all for Mummycat, there was a lot of open space and new people and things happening all the time. She couldn't cope. As soon as she got here she headed for the litter tray even though it was dirty and stinky. And there she stayed.
The human tried all sorts to get her to come out, to even hide in a different spot. I've been into that in other posts though, so I'm not going to do it here. The upshot though was that Mummycat just couldn't cope. She stopped eating. She started getting stress infections, until the human had the idea of clearing what she calls her spare junk room, and putting Mummycat in there. Soon she was out of the litter tray, but it took her weeks to be really confident enough to stay out of it all of the time. If she's in an enclosed, contained, cattery-like space, she's happy, but she's not content alone. She cries for company sometimes, and the human just doesn't have the space to get a third cat, not with the size of the house she has at the minute. She doesn't like the thought of two cats in such a small space all the time anyway.
She did her research and it said that cattery cats, if they're gotten when they're older, sometimes never can adjust to normal family life. After about four months or so of trying, and she's tried everything, the human is forced to admit that Mummycat might be one of those poor babies who's just grown to expect, and even crave, the small sppaces, the lack of change, the other cats for company. It's just what she's always been used to.
If she could have found an older person who lived in a really small house that was very quiet she'd have sent Mummycat there, but Mummycat has health problems, and most older peoples can't afford to pay for them. She's tried for months, and has found nothing. The only solution is to give her back to the lady people we used to live with. While the human doesn't agree with the conditions the cats are kept in, their health needs are met, their food is good, and they are snuggled regularly. She just wants Mummycat to be a family pet, not one of many in a cattery.
There's a good side, though. Mummycat is old enough that she'll probably never breed again. The human had her during the time when we want mancats most, and given her age, the breeder lady people won't have more babycats from her, we don't think.
Anyway, that's all for now. The human's upset all over again thinking about what Mummycat is going back to, but she knows that even if we were to find her a home, the same thing would happen in the end. She says I am to say that she hates breeders who don't keep their cats as pets, and hates conditioning seeded so deeply that a good life is nothing but upsetting to a soul who deserves nothing but love.