Innocent Cat Set Upon by Determined Paparazzi

I’ve started writing down everything I can remember about Thelonious so I can look at it after she’s gone and remember her in detail. Don’t worry, I won’t post it here; nor, because it’s usually boring to listen to other people’s dreams, will I tell you the details of the involved dream I had the night before last that featured Christopher Walken and Vince Vaughn, except to say that Vince was a very regular guy and chatted amiably, but Christopher Walken, I’m sorry to say, got dead drunk and passed out under the dining room table.

This week I had to launder my comforter cover because it had cat poop on it, and my mattress cover, for the same reason. A guy came into the laundry place with his dog, who came over and lay down on my foot and didn’t get up even when her owner was done with his laundry and walking out the door. I think she knew I was sad. It was rather comforting.

Thelonious had been eating, with pleasure, all seafood flavors of the vile-looking brand of cat food, and I was thinking that if she ate a couple of 3-ounce cans per day, she would be OK for a time.

But she seems to be slowing down already. The very minor upside will be that my kitchen will stop looking like some ghastly charnel house, all sad eyeballs and spiny backbones and silvery fish skin. I’ll try tuna again, and AD, and Fancy Feast (probably very poor quality, but reputed to be a cat favorite), and (human) baby food, and then I’m pretty much out of ideas.

Yesterday I bought 38 cans of cat food. In general, it seems like I've been buying a lot of stuff, though so far nothing really outrageous. Today I bought six rolls of masking tape, protective goggles, and a trowel.

If Thelonious does stop eating completely, I don’t know if that means it’s time to have her put to sleep, or if that’s nature taking its course and she can die on her own at home. I’ll ask Dr. Press on Monday. Maybe it depends on whether she seems to be unhappy or not. I’ll also ask him if Prednisone is our last reasonable resort.

I called Mission Pet Hospital and said I hoped it was premature, but I needed to know how much it costs to have a cat euthanized. It costs $145 if they dispose of the remains (via group cremation), and $245 for private cremation and having the remains returned to you. (“I’m glad you’re not crying,” said the nice person who answered my questions. I did that before and after the call.)

She also gave me the names of two vets who make house calls. I have a friend who had her cat put to sleep this way, and she said it was actually a positive experience. Though she isn’t Christian, as nor am I, she was comforted by the doctor saying a prayer for her cat, plus she said he was extremely kind.

Thelonious has been patient about having her picture taken. She’s the cat who knows how to deal with pesky paparazzi. I should end up with some nice pictures: “Here’s my cat with a neutral expression, sitting down. Oh, and here’s one of my cat with a neutral expression, sitting down.”

Here’s a weird thing: She seems to have stopped growing fur. For sixteen and a half years, I've been using masking tape to remove black fur from my bed and upholstered chair and whatever else she sits on, and suddenly there’s no need to do it. She can lie all night at the foot of my bed and leave virtually no evidence of having been there.

When she eats, I can see two stark white strips on her upper back, her pale skin showing through. I realized it’s where her shoulder blades are sticking out.

There is some good news in other realms: My coworker told me that she bought a Prius this week, and is going to sell her other car, and her partner is doing the same! I told her now she can email Al Gore and say, “OK, I did it—get off my back.” On top of that, she even brought a cloth towel to work, following my commendable example.

There was criticism lately of Al for exhorting us to change our ways while not living a maximally environmental lifestyle himself, what with multiple residences and not using the greenest form of energy, plus he probably flies six times a week. But maybe that’s his plan! If the rest of us tighten our belts a bit, he should be just fine.

In fact, I think Al G. will end up getting much deserved credit for his efforts in this area. An Inconvenient Truth may end up being a turning point. Maybe there is hope, though I think talk of alternative fuels for cars is mostly off track.

While part of the answer certainly is vehicles that are much more fuel-efficient, and for people to drive a whole lot less, we should be designing communities where jobs and housing and vegetable gardens are all right next to each other, so people don’t have to drive 50 miles to work.