Oh, God. Krimpet the Rat took suddenly ill and had to be put down on Friday. Without unnecessary description of her symptoms, it appeared to be cancer. The ground was still frozen, so she lay in state for two days, peacefully arranged in a cookie tin out in the shed. Mr. Pseudonym was finally able to plant her in the rat garden yesterday--another tiny, beloved scrap of life stirred back down into the continuum. She had a great time living with us, and she's busy now becoming spring flowers.
Krimpet's exit leaves only Sprinkles the Nine-Lived Rat in the rodent column, and she's still bouncing around like a WalMart shopper three days before Christmas. She rings a bell in her cage when she wants attention, which is most of the time she's awake. ("DING-DING-DING-DING! MOM! I'M AWAKE! WHERE'S MY COOKIES? AND DON'T FORGET THE MILK THIS TIME! DING-DING-DING!") Sprinkles has survived a three-day escape from her cage before she left the pet store, having her underside slashed open in an argument with one of her late sisters and a serious bout of head-tilt when she was about a year old.
The same day Krimpet went on to the Big Trashcan in the Sky, Onyx the Old, Old Cat took ill. She's been wobbly and taking nothing but water for two days, and she's not able to make it to the litter box today. She's always been fastidious--a little lady--so we know she's on her way out. She's always loved eating, as well, but now she's uninterested. I've been holding her in my lap most of the time, and she purrs and burys her head under my arm the way she always did. We will take her to the vet if she's unable to cross over easily by herself.
*teardrop*
On sunnier topics, #1 Daughter (a.k.a. Mrs.Thumbscre.ws) has obviously done more work on sprucing up Priscilla's blogpartment, and she promises the squirrel pix will be installed soon. She was here last weekend to give us the dining room set she bought with the soon-to-be-ex. The s-t-b-e (we call him "Stubby" for short) has moved on to IKEA high-gloss, and my daughter keeps her new place fairly spartan to minimize the destruction wrought by little J.Q. He just loves coming to the grandparents' house, where he can destroy at will. His favorite activities are trying to "feed" the fish by swishing his hands around in their tank ("Shishies! Eat!"), smacking Grandma's plants leafless, chasing after the pets with his shape-sorter cart and digging through the kitchen cabinets in search of sweets. ("Gamma! Fwoot sak? Kweem? Cookie? Canny?") ("No, J.Q. No. No. No.")
Wheeeeeeeeee!
Spring may bring the end of a long, long, long spell of depression for Priscilla. Tail's been dragging in the dirt for months now, but maybe the longer days and warm winds will help with the despondency. Either things get better soon, or we jump back on an SSRI and deal with the side effects (such as nightmares of Stubby popping up out of the dining room table with a knife between his teeth and glowing red eyes).
7 comments:
I am sorry to hear about Krimpet's passing. Your poetic description was a treat to read though. And the cat?? Owie, as our little Pea would say. Sorry about that too. LOVE, love, love the new layout, very nice. Mrs. TS did a great job. Hoping the clouds lift, anyone as super as you deserves some sunshine.
"Stubby" cracked me up... but what will we call him when he IS the Ex? You, know, not soon-to-be?
I suggest:
The Hirsute Enemy Formerly Known as Husband: THEFKAH, or "The Fuckah!"
Or maybe I just like excuses to call people things that approximate the word "fucker." *sigh*
So sorry about the fur babies. Love your outlook about cycling through the continuum. Spring flowers indeed.
LOL @ Junket. I used to refer to my ex as the sperm donor. Because after we split, that's all I thought he had contributed to my life. If it weren't for TJ, he would have had absolutely no purpose. :-P
Yay for spring. Wish I could bottle up some of our sunshine and 80 degree temps to send your way. We've already had to turn the A/C on in the afternoons down here.
Thanks,ladies, for your understanding. I'm really too sensitive to keep pets that only last 3-5 yrs, so Sprinkles will be my last rat.
Onyx is 16 years old, so we have more than gotten our money's worth out of her! I'll miss her funny voice when she goes, though; she had the weirdest way of meowing--sort of like someone singing a song while gargling mouthwash!
Junket, I too had to laugh at your acronym--vulgar but brilliant. But I really don't think of Stubby as "the enemy," and you probably don't either. I don't want any enemies in my life--too much emotional energy spent in the wrong place.
Back to cat-coddling--Onyx still hanging on by a thread.
Yeah, I know. But someone else needs to come up with a word that the letter E represents in that equation. I'm too lazy right now.
How about "entity," Junket? Or "elitist," or "ephemeron"?
Update on Onyx: we did wind up having her euthanized. I think of her frequently and miss her following me around demanding attention of one sort or another. *sigh* C'est des animaux.
oh dear, I'm so sorry. It's not fair to have bunches of pets leaving you at once. I feel torn about ratties myself -- I really adored my former rat Cornelius (more so than the mouse and gerbils I've had since), but it's so hard to put that much emotional energy into such short-lived creatures. Plus when I inform people that I've taken my rodents to the vet they look at me like I'm an alien. Sigh.
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