the post I didn't want to write
November 15, 2007
The Mooch is dead. Long live the Mooch!
Yesterday afternoon, it all became clear -- and oddly OK. Still horribly sad, mind, but OK. While Mooch's Moochness was still in his pointy little head, his body was just falling apart around him. His kidneys were shot as was his bladder. Walking was a chore. He was completely incontinent. It was time.
So I gave up and just hung out with him, which was melancholy at best. The weather was clement so we sat on the porch for a bit.
I took some blurry pictures.
He did some personal grooming.
After walking Maddy to school today, I put the Mooch in his crate with his favorite toy and drove him to the vet. She sedated him, then gave the Moocher the pink shot. By 9:30, he was gone, off to the land where there are thousands of warm laps, dozens of slow mice and millions of bowls of tuna. And where a cat no longer has use for kidneys, functioning or no.
He did, in true Mooch style, leave me something to remember him by, a way to keep in mind who he truly was. This morning, as we were getting ready to head out the door, he lost bladder control while resting on top of the heating vent in my office, so now whenever the heat is on, the room I spent the most time in smells like hot pee.
Stupid cat.
My fave picture of the beast is here, btw. It really captures his j'ne-se Mooch.
Mooch was the biggest pain in the ass I have ever known. Yet I miss the fuzzy little bastard and am really glad that I got to spend 24 hours with him at home before he died. Life's just a kick in the head.
On Saturday morning, we'll plant him in the backyard, in a part of the garden where we're fine with nothing ever growing again. Words will be said. Come by if you're in the area and want to fling some dirt on the Mooch's remains.
Today I'll finish cleaning up urine and breaking down the Mooch hospital (as Maddy called it) that we'd set up in the downstairs bathroom. There may be more tears. Or not. I'm starting to feel too wrung out to cry.
Thanks for all of the well wishes and advice. They've meant a lot and I am grateful.
Kiss the critters you live with tonight, even the annoying, smelly and psychotic ones. You'll miss 'em when they go.
aww. Bye Mooch. I've known a few cats like you.
Off to kiss my pain in the ass sleeps on my head and stinks like death cat now.
Posted by: thordora | November 15, 2007 at 02:50 PM
"But some animals, like some men, leave a trail of glory behind them. They give their spirit to the place where they have lived, and remain forever a part of the rocks and streams and the wind and sky."
-- Marguerite Henry (Brighty of the Grand Canyon)
Change that glory to pee, as appropriate. My sister's dog sits just like Mooch in your favorite picture. Like they're human.
Posted by: anna | November 15, 2007 at 03:02 PM
Rest in peace, you little stinker. I think you'll be missed.
Posted by: Katy | November 15, 2007 at 04:20 PM
Sorry for your loss. It's always hard to lose a pet, even the ones who are "difficult" to live with. I'm going home tonight to give my dog an extra hug and scratch behind the ears. Oh, and I hope you manage to get the stink out!
Posted by: Doris | November 15, 2007 at 04:21 PM
The Mooch will long be remembered. It's kind of amazing how much one can miss even the most bastardly pet. He may have been a jerk at times -- but he was yours.
Posted by: Emily | November 15, 2007 at 07:57 PM
Drinks will be drunk and tales of his eeevil* will be retold. An aside, does this mean more food for Trout and Cory?
*Think Harvey Korman in Blazing Saddles.
Posted by: Sil | November 15, 2007 at 08:12 PM
Nina will indeed get some extra attention this evening.
Pets do have a way of creeping into your lives, even in annoying ways. And although you know others will come along, that there will be more pointy ears to scratch and bowls to fill, you never forget those who came before... I still remember my childhood at Joseph, who died 20 (TWENTY!) years ago, with great affection. And tales are indeed told. Still, after 20 years.
We raise our glasses to Mooch *clink*.
Posted by: Shelley | November 15, 2007 at 09:42 PM
...and while we're at it, we raise our glasses to you, too, Adrienne, for doing the right thing by Mooch when the time came.
Posted by: Shelley | November 15, 2007 at 09:49 PM
Ave atque vale, Mooch.
Extra stinky treats for all, tonight.
Posted by: Melanie | November 15, 2007 at 11:31 PM
Awww, bye Mooch. Makes me sad again for the kitties I've lost (Franklin and Frederick ... their pictures are still on our walls next to ones of the kids). Sasha and Dottie will get extra love tonight. Hang in there though the remainder of this.
Posted by: Heidi | November 16, 2007 at 11:12 AM
:( Sorry for your loss.
Posted by: Trish | November 16, 2007 at 12:55 PM
Ah, I'm sorry.
Posted by: Juno | November 16, 2007 at 01:28 PM
Feeble attempt at Mooch requiem haiku:
redolent of pee
a home lacks its psycho cat
the trout stands alone
Posted by: nerak | November 16, 2007 at 04:42 PM
I'm so sorry, Adrienne. :(
Mooch, no haunting local gas stations, ok?
http://youtube.com/watch?v=kE_C1FXRo20
Posted by: karrie | November 17, 2007 at 05:53 AM