Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts

Saturday, March 6, 2010

R.I.P., Rigby (the little one)


It's times like these that it really helps to have a blog.

Bloggers are able to go to the computer and talk about whatever is going on at the moment. It is truly therapeutic to get the words out and onto the screen , even if we can barely see the monitor as tears well up in our eyes.

Today we lost our little Rigby kitty. A sweet little cat was he.

He was acting fine earlier this morning. But as I was visiting fellow bloggers and Shadow Shot Sunday participants Ralph suddenly yelled to me that Rigby couldn't walk. Rigby was lying on our son's bedroom floor and his legs wouldn't move. And he was meowing. Loudly.

It was so difficult to see him incapacitated like that, when an hour earlier he was running with his brother, Linus, from the front window to the back window to look at an interloper cat they had spotted on the driveway.

I called the vet, expecting an answering service. Luckily someone in the office answered, and, long story short she made an appointment for me at an emergency veterinary clinic about seven miles away. I threw on my clothes, scooped Rigby into the soft cat bed to try to comfort him and put him in the back seat.

He meowed and cried all the way there. I was talking to him and I had my right hand on him about half the time I was driving, trying my best to soothe him.

The doctor explained that what had happened was he had thrown a clot, which cut off the circulation to his hind legs. It turns out Rigby had heart disease, she said, after looking at a picture of his enlarged heart.

It's so sad to say good-bye to a little guy who wasn't very old. We thought we had many more years ahead to enjoy his antics.
Ralph and I have comforted ourselves in the knowledge that we gave Rigby a wonderful life in loving home, and we did all we could to make him happy.

He occasionally enjoyed using the computer, I know that.

He may have known how to read, who really knows?

And he liked plants.
We are concerned about his brother, Linus. We adopted them together in January of 2008 and they were never far apart. They had been in a bad environment, but fortunately for them they were rescued and placed in a foster home. Their rescuer, Cindy, brought us to the foster home one Saturday where we met them, in a room full of kitties waiting for someone to take them home.

Linus, the bigger brother, was Rigby's protector, but eventually they felt safe enough here that he would leave Rigby's side and do his own thing.
By his own thing, I guess I mean nap by himself!

I took this photo during the Superbowl. I don't think they were interested in the game. But I'm glad now that I captured this pose. = ^ . ^ =

Friday, May 30, 2008

Role-playing

Wife, mother, daughter...daughter, daughter... DAUGHTER.

Between writing stories for work and trying to help my mother with looking at houses and now getting ready to buy one (we are signing an offer to purchase and giving an initial deposit tomorrow-yippee!!) I am tired. Really tired. So I haven't felt like blogging much these days. I feel worn out.
And I fear that the three other people in this house haven't been seeing much of me lately. Or I haven't been seeing much of them. Or something like that.
I think I take pretty good care of the cats. Haven't heard any complaints.

* * *

On top of all this stuff, a wonderful man and World War II veteran of the Army Air Corps who I have gotten to know in recent years was tragically killed Sunday in a two-car collision . It was just a short while after our local Memorial Day Parade, on a glorious Sunday afternoon. John was alone, and he was behind the wheel when his new car was broadsided.
Many have said that it was ironic the accident happened on the long holiday weekend, since he was such a patriotic soul. He was active in both the American Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars. He was a friend to all.
I feel terrible about it. He was a widower, and his only child, a daughter, died of cancer about eight years ago.
He is survived by two granddaughters.
I helped with the story for the newspaper and went to the wake yesterday. There I saw his veteran buddies, all in uniform, who had gathered for a short service at the funeral home. Most of them are his contemporaries, or a bit younger, which made it so sad. One of them, one of his best friends, grabbed my hand and said to me as they were filing out: "I can't imagine what it is going to be like without him."
Me neither.