My mom Cathy has been very sad the last few days. Our roommate Tiger has not been eating. She just kind of nibbles at her food. She still jumps up on the sofa and keeps me in line, but she’s more interested in sleeping than eating.
Yesterday Cathy saw Tiger snoozing peacefully in a patch of sunlight. “That’s how I’d like to end my days,” she told me. “Sleeping peacefully in the sun.”
Mom’s going to take Tiger to the vet. She’s not happy to be stressing out Tiger but she wonders if it’s something that might respond to a few pills. Tiger is tough.
Frankly, I think Tiger is a useless parasite, but my mom thinks Tiger is…well, the cat’s meow. They’ve been together 14 years (longer than some marriages, Mom says).
Tiger’s had 3 airplane rides and crossed an international border. She endured interstate moves in a packed Toyota from the vantage point of her cat carrier. She’s lived in at least one Canadian province and 5 US cities. She’s recovered from liver disease and pancreatitis. She has outlived 3 feline roommates and 1 canine roommate.
When Cathy moved to New Mexico, Tiger spent a few months with her friend Bob, a statistics professor in Florida. Bob made sure there were no significant differences in the way he treated Cathy’s two cats. Both were spoiled equally rotten.
Not bad for a cat who found herself in a Humane Society cage at age 5.
So I better keep my opinions to myself. Luckily, today’s my day to run in the park with my Aunt Sara. Mom needs to focus on Tiger for awhile.