Our Cats

I don't think I've mentioned yet that we have three cats. We have a six year old, ginger-colored tabby named - creatively enough - Ginger, that belongs to Matt. She is the mother of our two 'kittens', five year old Isabelle (Lindsay's cat) and Gandalf (the hubby's cat). Isabelle is a long-haired gray tabby and her brother Gandalf is a short-haired tabby.

This time last year we had a total of five pets. We also had a liver on white English Springer Spaniel named Hunter and a black, gray and ginger colored tabby named Tootsie. Tootsie was Ginger's sister and my cat. Hunter was Jake's dog. 2007 was a bad pet year for us. In mid February, while dogs and cats all over the country were dying because of bad pet food, Hunter got sick. We took him to the vet because he had been sick for a couple of days, and were told that he had a nasty gastrointestinal infection and needed antibiotics. Six days later we found out that he had lymphoma and was dying. We euthanized him. He was only five years old.

I was very worried that my cats would get sick and die. (One of the many worries I'm trying to control with my New Years Resolution.) After months of worry, I decided that they were going to be fine. At the beginning of November Tootsie was struck by some disease, we'll never know exactly which one. She lost half her body weight in just under two weeks. The night she lost the use of her legs and had her first seizure I took her into the Humane Society and had her euthanized. The vet there told me that by the time she had lost enough weight to notice she was too far gone to save. I guess when cats decide it's their time, they just die.

My kids now talk about getting another dog but now isn't a good time. A few days ago, a friend of mine just got a new puppy - a miniature dachshund that was the runt of her litter - and told me I should get one. Frankly, I think my three cats might beat it up and bury it somewhere. They're not very nice to outsiders.