Yankee Doodle
Sixteen years ago, when she was five, Farrah decided she wanted a white cat with blue eyes. This decision was made after she saw one in a pet store for $300. I explained to her that she hadn't been born to a family that paid $300 for cats, but that we would see what we could do.
It wasn't long before an acquaintance of ours was blessed with a litter of kittens; one being all white and eyes that we could pretend were blue. Farrah was thrilled when we brought the kitten home. He had been born on the 4th of July, so we named him Yankee Doodle.
Yankee Doodle was an "only child" for a while; then came Sasha. Sasha was dropped on our doorstep by a "friend" who knew we couldn't turn down a kitten. He , however, developed a very bad attitude and tried to show us who was in charge by "marking" everything. We tried behavior modifications, nerve pills and anti-depressents (for Sasha, not us), but his behavior did not improve. So - Sasha didn't last too long.
Next came Annie. A dog that had been abused and left to die along side a road. Annie was an epileptic with allergies. She was devoted to me and my best friend for many years. A kidney problem developed, she began to suffer, so we let her go.
Yankee, however, was always a low maintenance pet. He was very independent and pretty much took care of himself. He let us know when he wanted to be petted and he let us know when he was tired of being petted. He groomed himself well, understood at all times what to do in a litter box, and came to get us when it was time for his canned cat food. On weekends if we didn't wake up at the week-day time, he would wake us up.
Yankee's age began to show. He couldn't quite groom himself as well as he once did. His long white hair often became matted on his back, so we began to shave him regularly. Several months ago, Jeff built steps and carpeted them, so Yankee could climb on our bed. Yankee continued to purr and talk to us, but he was slowing down.
For the last couple of weeks, he began to sleep all the time. I would have to wake him up to make him eat - but I couldn't make him eat enough. Last night we took him to the vet and he spent the night as they tried to determine what his ailment was. Tonight we were told it would take more extensive testing to find out the specific problem and then we might be told there is nothing we can do about the problem.
In people years, Yankee was 95 years old. The vet told us that Yankee was a "very old man" and a "very sick cat". Jeff went to be with Yankee at about 6:00 p.m. tonight when he was put to sleep.
Yes, I'm sad. I cried for a while, even though I know we did the kindest thing. I'm just going to believe that Yankee has been reunited with Sasha and Annie.
Yankee Doodle Dicken
July 4, 1989 - November 9, 2005
It wasn't long before an acquaintance of ours was blessed with a litter of kittens; one being all white and eyes that we could pretend were blue. Farrah was thrilled when we brought the kitten home. He had been born on the 4th of July, so we named him Yankee Doodle.
Yankee Doodle was an "only child" for a while; then came Sasha. Sasha was dropped on our doorstep by a "friend" who knew we couldn't turn down a kitten. He , however, developed a very bad attitude and tried to show us who was in charge by "marking" everything. We tried behavior modifications, nerve pills and anti-depressents (for Sasha, not us), but his behavior did not improve. So - Sasha didn't last too long.
Next came Annie. A dog that had been abused and left to die along side a road. Annie was an epileptic with allergies. She was devoted to me and my best friend for many years. A kidney problem developed, she began to suffer, so we let her go.
Yankee, however, was always a low maintenance pet. He was very independent and pretty much took care of himself. He let us know when he wanted to be petted and he let us know when he was tired of being petted. He groomed himself well, understood at all times what to do in a litter box, and came to get us when it was time for his canned cat food. On weekends if we didn't wake up at the week-day time, he would wake us up.
Yankee's age began to show. He couldn't quite groom himself as well as he once did. His long white hair often became matted on his back, so we began to shave him regularly. Several months ago, Jeff built steps and carpeted them, so Yankee could climb on our bed. Yankee continued to purr and talk to us, but he was slowing down.
For the last couple of weeks, he began to sleep all the time. I would have to wake him up to make him eat - but I couldn't make him eat enough. Last night we took him to the vet and he spent the night as they tried to determine what his ailment was. Tonight we were told it would take more extensive testing to find out the specific problem and then we might be told there is nothing we can do about the problem.
In people years, Yankee was 95 years old. The vet told us that Yankee was a "very old man" and a "very sick cat". Jeff went to be with Yankee at about 6:00 p.m. tonight when he was put to sleep.
Yes, I'm sad. I cried for a while, even though I know we did the kindest thing. I'm just going to believe that Yankee has been reunited with Sasha and Annie.
Yankee Doodle Dicken
July 4, 1989 - November 9, 2005
posted by SMSSecretary at 7:45 PM
1 Comments:
here I sit in my room at lunch! and didn't know till you told me! you poor thing!
I have had pets too, but nothing like Yankee! well, one dog that we loved! and she was stolen 18 years ago- she has a good story to tell too.
you are a wonderful story teller and I love reading your blog!
finally have medicine and feeling a bit better! see you in the morning at school!
think about you!!! all of the time!
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