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Dave: (dave-deleteme[at]-deleteme-squishycomics [dot] com)
2009-03-18 11:40:04
Calsetas
I took my cat, Calsetas, to see the vet on Monday morning. She had a lump on her belly that turned out to be a tumor. The vet did some blood work on her to see if she could survive its removal. I took Calsetas home, spent a little time with her and fed her to make sure she was calm before I left for work.
Tuesday morning I was given the green light to take her in, but the vet explained to me that, being an old cat, she roughly had a fifty-fifty shot at pulling through. A shot at life was better than just being put down, so I scratched her head and left her with the vets. They told me that if they don't call me, I can just pick her up on Wednesday morning.
Later that day I received a call around 5 in the afternoon. The vet informed me that Calsetas had her surgery at 2 PM, and was doing fine until around 3:30 PM when she had a nasty convulsion. It apparently took a lot out of her, and she would be watched and cared for to help her get through it. The call really put me in bad shape, so I tried to focus on getting today's strip done since there was nothing I could do for my cat other than pray and wish her well.
This morning at 8:15 I received a call from the vet. My cat passed away around 1 in the morning. The vet told me that they did what they could, but she had another convulsion and that was it. The vet was sympathetic, but he needed to know what I wanted to do with her body. I opted to let them take care of it.
I had Calsetas since 1996, and she was rescued from the street as a kitten, so she had a reasonably happy life. Still, I'm feeling really shitty right now.
I miss my cat.
Mike: (mike-deleteme[at]-deleteme-squishycomics [dot] com)
2009-03-18 13:34:10
The Cat
Calsetas was the skinniest little beast ever. I remember the first time I went to Dave's house they said that she was shy or "mean" or something. I don't remember what, but it was a "be careful" warning. I think she was just timid which could lead to mass scratches. But, of ALL the cats I've ever met, only 2 have never tried to open my arm up, and she was one of 'em.
Sweet little beast too, until she was in heat and I got that feeling you get at a bar when a girl just won't leave you alone. "Okay, personal bubble... RESPECT IT!"
In all seriousness though, she was a badass cat. They gave her a good life, and to me, that's what it's all about.
Pour one out for 'er.