I had a cat. Her name was Phyllis.
I don’t quite know how to say this, but I am *not* a cat person. In fact, I get great joy out of chasing a cat around while saying, “kitty kitty kitty kitty…” in a very annoying Elmira off of TinyTunes kind of way. I understand dogs, I get them. I can communicate with them and I understand pack mentality. Cats? not a clue. I’ve often had them; we just never clicked. Then I got a Phyllis. She came from the animal shelter and was delivered by a friend of mine who worked there at the time. They had spayed her and that caused her to be all shaved from the waist down. What no-one counted on was that when she was stressed out she dropped hair like a porcupine throws quills. So, before she ever came into my house the little black cat was, well, nekkid on the whole bottom of her body. From the top–fuzzy black kitten. From the bottom–OMG WHAT IS IT?!?! KILL IT WITH FIRE. She was a hideous package of ugly from her snaggle vampire-looking teeth to her nekkid underbelly.
I was instantly in love. 🙂 She took a much longer time to decide she loved me. In fact, even when she slept on my pillow every night she pretty much informed me with many a’ disdainful glare that although she had chosen me as her person I was not to take her for granted and needed to remember she could have done better.
This cat made me laugh every day of her life, which sadly lasted only one year and ended yesterday, April 4, 2012. I held her as the vet injected the disturbingly pink fluid of euthanasia. Why? Because people don’t spay or neuter their animals and cats procreate like crazy and disease runs rampant. Then some unfortunate stray with Feline Leukemia Virus infected Phyllis despite her being vaccinated (it happens) during one of the many random turf wars fought by cats defending or gaining territory. Phyllis’ health has been a struggle for the past four months including infections, non-healing wounds, and respiratory problems. She continued to decline and after many trips to the vet for fluids, vitamins, and antibiotics we finally tested her for FeLV. Since she was vaccinated it had been considered unlikely and therefore wasn’t tested for during her initial treatments. She was positive. She was sick, not getting any better, and I had to make the shitty decision to kill my cat. The only cat with whom I had bonded. The cat I loved.
My Phyllis, the creepy adorable fearless hell monster of my heart.
Rest in Peace Pretty Girl; you were loved by many.