It was a regular week this past week: I worked a couple of days, spent some time clearing out the dregs of our Christmas stuff... a misplaced ornament, a wooden plaque I forgot to take down and some ribbon that didn't make it in the box. It's a big deal around here. With over 15 boxes.. you know, the rubbermaid ones. While fun and festive for the Christmas season, it gets a little overwhelming come time to pack it all up. So that was a milestone NOT to have anything left in March... yes, we've, well, I've taken that long before. And don't forget, there's always the tree carcass to chop up for the green bin on recycle day. It even made it in the last load!! What a feat!!
I'm pleased, except now, however I have brought in the large round industrial table to sort office stuff, outside the office. Where, you say? In the front room. It's a bad scene to have an extra table, like the ones that are the size the ward uses for RS meetings and other ward activities. Rance's office was moving floors so the had all the employees work from home for a week. That meant clearing some surface space to work in. It's been a maybe-I'll-sell-this-on-ebay, don't-forget-to-take-this-out-to-the-garage, when-are-we-going-to-do-something-about-all-these-photographs, kind of piling system. Now I have to do it. Grrrr....!!
In the midst of all this our 18 year old cat Sparky has been declining. She was fine over Christmas. I made a padded 'bed' on the little front room love seat with one of those really soft, plush throw blankets for her old bones to be comfortable. And she would curl up, look out the window (when the blinds were up), hop up and down from the couch to get her food (which had to be moved to the office cuz it's been in Chase's room ever since he took over Kelsey's old room where Sparky has lived since we moved here 6+ years ago). So she was pretty comfortable. So I thought. Then, a couple of weeks ago, we couldn't find her. She wasn't in the pantry trying to find a different cat dish to check out. She wasn't in the office eating out of her own dish. She wasn't in any of the bedrooms or closets. She wasn't in anywhere! I got worried that this poor, old deaf cat got out and was lost in the dark outside!! We continued to look and then finally found her snuggled up in a wicker basket in the hall shelves we use to put in our rugs and towels. I figured since it was just an old rug we could wash it later so I let her stay there. She began to sleep there a lot longer, she hardly came out for food and when I saw her one day last week, she looked like she'd lost weight---her saggy baggy tummy from kitty bearing years wasn't even visible. She wasn't standing very sturdy either. Things got worse the next night when we heard her yowling through the hallways all night. It's like she was telling us something.
I think it's one of the hardest decisions to make when you have to face the fact that a pet has to go. She was weak, she would just look at her water dish, and then on Wednesday when I came home from work, she looked disoriented.... she had her two front feet inside her water dish just standing there looking at it. The poor thing. I knew it was time. But I wasn't prepared for the emotion it would bring.
She's our first pet. We were in our apartment in Gilbert when Kelsey was about 5 or 6. I found her amongst some leaves under a bush where Chase was going to preschool (yes.. it was that long ago..) and she was so tiny she could fit in a tea cup. I remember telling myself to remember that she was that tiny. She was very scared so we kept her in a dresser drawer and while Rance didn't know yet, Kelsey and I were enjoying a little sneakiness getting her used to us. When I asked Kelsey what to name her, she said, "Sparky". Neither Rance or I had the heart to tell her it was a dog's name, so it stuck.
Sparky put up with the other kittys and strays that came in and out of our lives. She ended up being just an inside cat when she'd had enough of that so we honored it and she became Kelsey's full time roomie. It's been eighteen years. Tessa doesn't remember life without her. And it's strange having her gone even though she didn't take up much time, space or trouble.
I cleaned up the cat carrier, folded up her blanket and Tessa and I packed her up for the goodbye trip to the vet. I wasn't prepared to feel so sad. She's been such a good soul. She weighed only 5 pounds when they checked her over and we said goodbye, even though she couldn't hear us, and left the room. When we took the door out the back of the veterinary door, there were little bird bath fountains and a plaque on the ground with piles of old leashes and collars from other pets that had gone. I'm sad to see her go but glad she's better off now.
Good bye, Sparks.
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