----- Original Message ----- From: "Warren Ockrassa" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> Sent: Friday, March 02, 2007 9:56 PM Subject: Sputnik, my cat.
> My kitty. > > My purry grey kitty. > > http://indigestible.nightwares.com/2007/03/02/sputnik/ When faced with the choice of spending $150 to put my son's cat Angus down, or spending $500 - $800 to maybe, perhaps, possibly keep him alive, I chose to go for broke and be broke. Angus is a little over a year old, maybe a year and a half. It was difficult to imagine life without him bugging the crap out of me every day. I'm not really all that much a pet person, I like animals but don't form very strong emotional bonds with them. Not like my wife. She could talk about her pets for hours on end and sometimes I suspect that she prefers their company to mine.<G> In a treatment room at the pet hospital the veternarian was letting us know just how bad Angus' urinary infection had gotten. (We had been treating him at home for a few weeks, but now his tract was completely blocked) My wife cried so hard she could barely get words out through the wracks of sobs, but what made my decision was the thought of telling my son his cat had died (and that I had made such a decision). Having lost my Father when I was in high school, there was some personal meaning to saving my son from a more intimate knowledge of Death, at least for a while longer. I may be at the limit of my ability to act as parental protection in that regard, but the biological compulsion (aw hell, even the core of my philosophy) dictates that I should do so. I have to admit that on this subject I am more that a little selfish. I don't *feel* the pet/owner bond as most people do. But I do recognize its powerful emotional draw and plainly see the joy others take in their furry friends. And in that respect I honor the ties that connect these various mammals and make them family. It should not be surprising that we hear of little old ladies with 60 cats in their homes. For some those relationships are the strongest form of sociality in thier lives. A calming trust and a balm that stands in contrast with the conflict we often find with others of our kind. My wife often says that sometimes her cats are better friends than the humans she knows because there is never a sense of betrayal with cats. (I easily can imagine her with 60 cats<G>) At home, I am the God of cats. I am the salvation from the slave pens of Petco. The provider of food and drink. Wielder of the sacred red dot that the faithful chase tirelessly. Rescuer from the house of pain (Are we not cats?) Feeder of the patio cats who come to visit in the dead of night. Master of squirrels, racoons, and opposum. (I leave some food on the patio for neighborhood cats and the various varmints that come to entertain our cats.) Bringer of toys that jingle or squeak. Owner of the awesome *hands*!!!!!! We are fortunate that Angus is still with us. Our home would be an emptier place without Angus and Spooky. There is a void left where Sputnik once was and I sympathize with those who loved him. xponent Friends Maru rob _______________________________________________ http://www.mccmedia.com/mailman/listinfo/brin-l
