Day the Twelvth

For days now, I've been trying to remember the name of my favorite cat. I was thinking of him when DH buried Radagast, because he is buried right next to him, but I can't think of his name. I can remember my other passed (past) pets.

I remember Galadriel, our first pet together. We rescued her from Concern for Animals, a rescue organization in Olympia. She was an abused Buff Cocker Spaniel we named Lady Galadriel (from LOTR), but we called her Stinker Doggy, or just Stinker, ever since the night she was sprayed by a passing skunk right outside the door to her doghouse. That was the night we learned that tomato juice does not get the stink off - but fortunately I found a product called Skunk-Off that did. And Thank God for that. She got old and sick and I took her to the pound, with the help of a friend, and they let me be with her as they gave the shot. It was a good death, an easy death. We were both ready for it.

Then there was Mayday, so named because it was the day I got her, and I couldn't think of anything else at the time. She was a good kitty, but didn't have much personality. She just sort of faded into the background. I think she liked being a loner. She died at home one night after a few lethargic days - we think she might have been poisoned. We just don't know. She's out back under the swing bench she like sitting on so much during the summers.

Next was Tinuviel (another LOTR name)- She was our puppy box doggy. Very cute, too - half Golden Retriever, half Rottweiler, they said, but she grew into a wiry haired golden retriever body with very short legs, with a face that could sell ... anything. She was a great dog, a dog who NEEDED TO PLAY, not just wanted to play. As a young dog she chewed Everything, even the leg of our dining room table. Unfortunately, she also ate some treated wood fencing meant to keep her out of the garden. We think that's what caused her to develop a bleeding disorder that went undiagnosed, and ended up causing her to bleed internally, killing her. One day she wasn't feeling well so I took her to the vet. He decided it must be a bad tooth and extracted a molar. When I went to pick her up, he told me he couldn't stop the bleeding. I had to call DH to let him know what was going on, and by the time I got back to the office (literally within 30 minutes), she had died. Her death came as a total shock, and though I held it together in the vet's office, once I got back to the car I broke into tears. That was a tough one.

Then there was Gus - my other yellow tabby who we (eventually) had put to sleep due to his cerebellar hypoplasia. Gus was given to us by someone in our old neighborhood in Lacey. The vet told us his condition was caused because his mother had distemper when she carried him (inside her). I really identified with him, watching him grow up [with his kitty MS] at first healthy, then little by little, losing more motor skills until he became incontinent and had to be kept outside. We built him a nice safe cat house which he took to right away, and seemed quite content. It wasn't until I noticed that he fell over each time he had a BM that I said, "That's it, Gussers. You don't have to do this anymore." Besides, it was getting cold in the middle of Fall. A wet Winter would have been very tough on him. So I held him while Dr. Bob gave him the shot, and he died in mid-purr. It was a good death, after a good, if short, life. Gus - he was a good kitty.

But my favorite kitty? The one that was dumped into, and that I rescued from the garbage can across the alley when he was about seven weeks old; the most independent cat turned best lap cat ever (once he got past his teen testosterone, bad boy of the neighborhood stage); the pet DH did a homa ceremony for -- I can't retrieve his name from my MS-addled brain. I can't remember his name. Now that's an unfair MS symptom if you ask me.

Good Night, TTYL and Be Well

P.S. I wrote this draft a couple days ago. And this morning, just after waking I was thinking of something - doggies(?!) - in those few moments before real consciousness, it popped into my brain.

WORF.

His name was Worf, named for the gentle warrior who also had a distinctive forehead. I really loved that kitty.