The cat story

The writer of "The Duck Story", "The Chicken Story" and "The Rooster Story" are proud to bring you...

The cat story.
It's a little long, but the payoff is worth it...at least I think so.
*Warning: reading this story may cause sudden outbursts of laughter, giggling, snorting and shooting of soda or other beverages through your nose. Ramblings of a 30something is not responsible for any damage to any clothing for any beverage incidences that may occur.

I have a grandma. She is 91 years old. She lives at home with my two uncles, both of whom are mostly worthless as caregivers, causing my one aunt to provide most of the care (making sure meds are taken, changing of sheets, washing of clothes) - this aunt is the famous Carol of this blog. Everyone say HI CAROL and Happy Birthday! (Her birthday was actually on Monday and I've been too busy to blog about it...so Happy BELATED Birthday Carol!!!)

My 91-year-old grandmother has 2 cats...one named Cricket...and the other is named...well...not cricket. I have no idea. Cat #2. Whatevs, unimportant. The focus of this story is Cricket.

So Cricket is not 91, but is an old cat, and in the past couple of weeks has taken to peeing in my grandmother's bed. And not just anytime, usually when she's sleeping WITH my grandmother, meaning whenever the cat pees in the bed, my poor grandmother gets soaked with cat urine. Um, EW. I can hear you ew-ing. So after a few days of this, one of my uncles finally got his wits about him to help out so Carol didn't have to drive over there every day. He was changing the sheets, every day, and washing the mattress pad every day and washing my grandmother's nightgowns and robes and whatnot, every day...yeah, this was getting old quick. So my uncle and Carol decide that maybe it's time the cat was put to sleep...but how to tell grandma?? She didn't do so well when her very elderly dog took ill and had to be put down. It was very upsetting for her.

BUT - I guess Grandma was also getting tired of the cat pee situation and told Carol and Eddie that maybe it was time to put the cat to sleep. Hallelujah! One hurdle down.

But then Gram talks to my other aunt...and this aunt? She's a real piece of work. When she catches wind of the potential euthanasia of Cricket, she calls Carol and lights up on her. Screaming about cruelty to animals and how Gram would be so upset...threatens to CALL THE POLICE. She calls two different vets where she thinks Eddie might take the cat to have it put to sleep to WARN them and to tell them that my Gram, under no circumstances, wants this cat put to sleep.

Whodawa? Your 91-year-old mother is sleeping in cat pee for who knows how long every night, because there's no way of telling when the little bugger is actually committing the peeing fiasco...and you're concerned about THE CAT??? Come and take it back to your house then if you don't mind the pee.

So Eddie takes the cat to the vet to have it put on antibiotics for a potential urinary tract infection/bladder problem, maybe that's causing the problem. The vet was not hopeful. After several more days of cat pee drama, Eddie determines that the elderly, bladder challenged, probably dying cat who is not responding to the antibiotics in the time the vet said she should, should in fact, be put to sleep. The vet agrees, but my aunt does not, and has convinced my grandmother of the same.

My mother, the Janet, catches wind of this the other day and is, rightfully so, furious. The thought of her mother sleeping in cat pee day after day is very upsetting. She tells Carol that if that cat is not dead by the weekend she will fly out there herself to drive it to the vet.

OH MY. She was serious on that one, people...TRUST ME.

Eddie finally takes the cat out of the house while gram is napping, finds a vet my aunt hasn't called, and has the cat put to sleep. Carol is freaking out..."what are we going to tell mom?" They devise a plan where Eddie will tell my Gram that the cat must have wandered off to die, as cats and all animals who are sick, will often do. The plan, the lie, is formed. The Janet is informed. The deed is done.

But somewhere between driving to the vet and having the cat put to sleep, Eddie formulates a new plan, a better plan.

He brings the dead cat BACK TO THE HOUSE, lays it at the foot of my grandmother's bed, wakes my grandmother up declaring "Mom, Cricket's not moving, I think she might have died!"

OH MY GOD.

My grandmother is concerned and then relieved..."poor Cricket, who knows when she could have died...she was laying right there this morning, maybe she died during the night! she must have been really sick"

Yes, Gram - that's right...she died during the night. Yes, Gram, she was really sick. After a proper burial, and my grandmother and aunt properly satiated with the news of Cricket's completely natural death....the cat pee is no more. Cricket is no longer suffering with whatever kidney ailment elderly cats get, and my grandmother is no longer laying in cat pee.

Carol, Eddie, the Janet and I are all waiting for my loony aunt to call for an autopsy. Good luck getting that exhumation order.