Thank you everyone.
Jun. 4th, 2011 11:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rkoldThank you everyone for your condolence wishes. I can't tell you how hard it is to have Cookie gone. She was more than just a cat to me and I just can't seem to stop crying no matter how much I try to move on. I've already tried to clean out the kitchen and rearrange it and have cleaned out and given away the measuring cup she use to drink from and the bowls she ate from. Someday, I might get another cat but they can get new things, like actual bowls meant for cats rather than bowls bought from Ikea which our Vet claimed were awful for cats.
And now for some very personal information about Cookie and her importance to me.
For those who don't know, after I graduated from college I moved to Houston, TX. It was a horrible shock for me down there. I found out my college degree was completely worthless and took a job in retail that I could have gotten without having spent 4 years in college. I always felt like an outsider and I couldn't make any friends. I always felt alone and miserable and the internet was not the wonderful escape it is today. Mosaic and Netscape were only just testing the waters. Usenet was a royal pain in the ass (though I did use it) and the web was just not the place it is today. K was a grad student, and it involved long long hours. There were often times when he would leave to go to Rice at 8 in the morning and not come home until 10 or later. From June until December I had no TV or VCR (let alone cable)
One day in September, I went to the Krogers across the street to do some banking and buy bread to make K lunch. But neither of those things ever got accomplished because instead when I arrived I saw a tiny calico kitten attempting to navigate one of the "automatic caution doors." It was a tiny thing and everyone else seemed to be ignoring its presence as it kept trying to understand what made the door open. I'd hoped to get a cat eventually, but we'd only moved down in June and we knew our stay in TX was to be limited to grad school (and our finances were pretty slim) and so had planned to wait before entering pet ownership. But the kitten was so small, and when I picked her up she was so sweet. I couldn't believe someone could just abandon a kitten in a busy grocery store on a very busy road. No she had to be lost. I returned to my rental complex to ask the management if anyone had lost a kitten. At the time, the management often had free Otis Spunkenmeyer cookies and being hungry I was hoping I could get one that day. There were no cookies and no one in the complex had lost a kitten. I took the meowing kitten back to my apartment to call the Houston Animal Shelters. There I learned chances were high if I brought in the kitten she would be euthanized because of overcrowding. I looked at the tiny life in my hands who was now wandering around my apartment meowing and knew I could not let that happen. I named her Cookie, after the cookie I had wanted and not gotten, hoping that if she had a name, K would have to let me keep her. I arrived at his office hands behind my back and had shyly shown him what I had rescued and introduced Cookie, asking if we could keep her. K immediately said "yes." completely smitten. I don't remember anymore what we tried feeding her that day. I know I soon took her to the Vet where we learned she had fleas (and then had to fight off the fleas biting us!) and started the joys of pet ownership.
Cookie was a talkative kitten/cat. She would burble and make little sounds letting you feel like she was listening and communicating with you. When I was alone most nights it was wonderful having this tiny soul in my life. In 1995, we moved back north, graduate school a complete bust and we took Cookie with us. The 3 of us rode in our Ryder truck from TX to NY, Cookie crying a good portion of the way. The carrier she had previously loved became her new nemesis and she never forgot her hatred of it on any future trips. I use to tell people that Cookie was the only good thing we ever got out of Texas and I still believe that. Cookie had always been in indoor cat and was given free reign of my parents house while we lived there before K and I got married. Marmalade, the family cat did not like Cookie at all, despite Cookie's best attempts to win him over. I still remember the night after my wedding I couldn't find Cookie and was afraid somehow she had gotten out. Everyone assured me this was not the case, but I found her trembling under the azalea bush next to the sun porch.
The 3 of us lived with my parents until we found our first Co-op. Once there, we decided Cookie needed some friends since K and I were both working full time. We adopted Nutmeg and Basil from a no-kill shelter and surprisingly after just a few days they got along beautifully. For most of their lives they happily shared a single litter box, slept in a cat ball together, would have eaten from one another's bowls if we were not vigilant. Cookie was the dominant cat (not that Nutmeg noticed, she was too apathetic to care) and did her best to take care of the others. She groomed them (along with me and K) and did her best to keep them in line. She hated being picked up, but loved me any way despite my desire to do just that.
Cookie lived in our apartment in TX, 2x with my parents, our Co-op, our house, and now this rental. It breaks my heart that she will not make it alive to our next residence. Cookie and Basil were sad to lose Nutmeg, but not in the same way Cookie was sad to lose Basil. After we lost him to kidney disease (the same affliction which took Cookie) Cookie would wander the house meowing sadly for him, looking for her lost companion. She still had K, me and my growing belly, but it wasn't the same.
Cookie was amazing with the baby. She was patient when the baby pulled on her fur and grabbed at her, never hissing or scratching. When she grew tired of the baby's rough play she just walked away. I'm sure even now, as the baby becomes more mobile she still would have just left and hid, never even considering giving the baby the sort of swipe she could have easily given. I still remember the one day I saw her grooming the baby. I'm not sure the baby understood, but it made me smile and laugh.
Unfortunately, Cookie has been going downhill for a long time. Things really changed for the worst the week after the Japanese earthquake and tsunami. I begged Cookie to please hold on a little longer because I was just not strong enough to take losing her while still trying to wrap my mind around the horrific events taking place in the country that held a special place in my heart. And she did. She held on longer for me. Things have been bad for a long time. She got picky and refused to eat most things. Things that shouldn't have set her off made her throw up. She was drinking a lot of water. But still she would purr and snuggle on the couch near me while I pumped and the baby and K slept upstairs. We took her to the Vet repeatedly, trying to get as many tests as possible to tell us what we could do. She was 16 1/2 though and trying to put her through certain tests (surgery to get a sample from her liver/chemo) just seemed cruel and like a cure that would be worse than the disease. I hoped we had a few more years, time for her to move with us to our next home. I was wrong.
I feel this huge ache inside. She was such a part of my life. We had Cookie for nearly 17 years. And now she is gone and I am waiting to get back a small container of ashes to take with me to my next home.
And now for some very personal information about Cookie and her importance to me.
For those who don't know, after I graduated from college I moved to Houston, TX. It was a horrible shock for me down there. I found out my college degree was completely worthless and took a job in retail that I could have gotten without having spent 4 years in college. I always felt like an outsider and I couldn't make any friends. I always felt alone and miserable and the internet was not the wonderful escape it is today. Mosaic and Netscape were only just testing the waters. Usenet was a royal pain in the ass (though I did use it) and the web was just not the place it is today. K was a grad student, and it involved long long hours. There were often times when he would leave to go to Rice at 8 in the morning and not come home until 10 or later. From June until December I had no TV or VCR (let alone cable)
One day in September, I went to the Krogers across the street to do some banking and buy bread to make K lunch. But neither of those things ever got accomplished because instead when I arrived I saw a tiny calico kitten attempting to navigate one of the "automatic caution doors." It was a tiny thing and everyone else seemed to be ignoring its presence as it kept trying to understand what made the door open. I'd hoped to get a cat eventually, but we'd only moved down in June and we knew our stay in TX was to be limited to grad school (and our finances were pretty slim) and so had planned to wait before entering pet ownership. But the kitten was so small, and when I picked her up she was so sweet. I couldn't believe someone could just abandon a kitten in a busy grocery store on a very busy road. No she had to be lost. I returned to my rental complex to ask the management if anyone had lost a kitten. At the time, the management often had free Otis Spunkenmeyer cookies and being hungry I was hoping I could get one that day. There were no cookies and no one in the complex had lost a kitten. I took the meowing kitten back to my apartment to call the Houston Animal Shelters. There I learned chances were high if I brought in the kitten she would be euthanized because of overcrowding. I looked at the tiny life in my hands who was now wandering around my apartment meowing and knew I could not let that happen. I named her Cookie, after the cookie I had wanted and not gotten, hoping that if she had a name, K would have to let me keep her. I arrived at his office hands behind my back and had shyly shown him what I had rescued and introduced Cookie, asking if we could keep her. K immediately said "yes." completely smitten. I don't remember anymore what we tried feeding her that day. I know I soon took her to the Vet where we learned she had fleas (and then had to fight off the fleas biting us!) and started the joys of pet ownership.
Cookie was a talkative kitten/cat. She would burble and make little sounds letting you feel like she was listening and communicating with you. When I was alone most nights it was wonderful having this tiny soul in my life. In 1995, we moved back north, graduate school a complete bust and we took Cookie with us. The 3 of us rode in our Ryder truck from TX to NY, Cookie crying a good portion of the way. The carrier she had previously loved became her new nemesis and she never forgot her hatred of it on any future trips. I use to tell people that Cookie was the only good thing we ever got out of Texas and I still believe that. Cookie had always been in indoor cat and was given free reign of my parents house while we lived there before K and I got married. Marmalade, the family cat did not like Cookie at all, despite Cookie's best attempts to win him over. I still remember the night after my wedding I couldn't find Cookie and was afraid somehow she had gotten out. Everyone assured me this was not the case, but I found her trembling under the azalea bush next to the sun porch.
The 3 of us lived with my parents until we found our first Co-op. Once there, we decided Cookie needed some friends since K and I were both working full time. We adopted Nutmeg and Basil from a no-kill shelter and surprisingly after just a few days they got along beautifully. For most of their lives they happily shared a single litter box, slept in a cat ball together, would have eaten from one another's bowls if we were not vigilant. Cookie was the dominant cat (not that Nutmeg noticed, she was too apathetic to care) and did her best to take care of the others. She groomed them (along with me and K) and did her best to keep them in line. She hated being picked up, but loved me any way despite my desire to do just that.
Cookie lived in our apartment in TX, 2x with my parents, our Co-op, our house, and now this rental. It breaks my heart that she will not make it alive to our next residence. Cookie and Basil were sad to lose Nutmeg, but not in the same way Cookie was sad to lose Basil. After we lost him to kidney disease (the same affliction which took Cookie) Cookie would wander the house meowing sadly for him, looking for her lost companion. She still had K, me and my growing belly, but it wasn't the same.
Cookie was amazing with the baby. She was patient when the baby pulled on her fur and grabbed at her, never hissing or scratching. When she grew tired of the baby's rough play she just walked away. I'm sure even now, as the baby becomes more mobile she still would have just left and hid, never even considering giving the baby the sort of swipe she could have easily given. I still remember the one day I saw her grooming the baby. I'm not sure the baby understood, but it made me smile and laugh.
Unfortunately, Cookie has been going downhill for a long time. Things really changed for the worst the week after the Japanese earthquake and tsunami. I begged Cookie to please hold on a little longer because I was just not strong enough to take losing her while still trying to wrap my mind around the horrific events taking place in the country that held a special place in my heart. And she did. She held on longer for me. Things have been bad for a long time. She got picky and refused to eat most things. Things that shouldn't have set her off made her throw up. She was drinking a lot of water. But still she would purr and snuggle on the couch near me while I pumped and the baby and K slept upstairs. We took her to the Vet repeatedly, trying to get as many tests as possible to tell us what we could do. She was 16 1/2 though and trying to put her through certain tests (surgery to get a sample from her liver/chemo) just seemed cruel and like a cure that would be worse than the disease. I hoped we had a few more years, time for her to move with us to our next home. I was wrong.
I feel this huge ache inside. She was such a part of my life. We had Cookie for nearly 17 years. And now she is gone and I am waiting to get back a small container of ashes to take with me to my next home.
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Date: 2011-07-01 04:31 am (UTC)