RIP Winston, 8 November 2007.
My mom informed me that she was thinking about coming with my dad to visit me. This sparked something, and I asked where Winston was. She told me was gone.
This is the story from my mom:
He sort of got all weak and frail and couldn’t stand up, and he’s gone now
I asked when he had gone: Actually Thursday, but I wanted you to finish your paper and I’d tell you really soon.
This was very nice of her. Thankfully my paper did get done.
Well, Tuesday he was just kind of lethargic, and I thought it was because he’d stayed outside took long Tuesday morning. But it wasn’t. He was just weak and went outside and lay down and didn’t bark to come in. So in the morning, after a bit of time, he finally came to the door and asked to come in. then he was sort of lying around. Wednesday he wouldn’t eat breakfast, and I got him to take one egg, but he wouldn’t drink any of the soy milk or anything. So I took him to the vet, and Dr. Russ said that maybe he just had a bug because he had had the prednisone (suppresses immunity) and the cancer hadn’t spread to his leg lymph nodes, and he wasn’t in pain in his belly. So I upped his prednisone and gave him the amoxicillin. Not easy. He still just lay around, and he’d drink big bunches of water every now and again. Then Thursday he threw up a little bit. He’d eaten a bite of cat food and some water. So I put some honey in his water for energy and he perked up for about 30 seconds. He just lay there and looked sad. Wednesday up on his bench by the window and Thursday on his livingroom bed. He came up to our bedroom on Wednesday night, but he could barely make it up the stairs. So I petted him a lot and scratched his ears and rubbed his tummy, but by Thursday afternoon, he wasn’t even responding to that. He was just miserable. So we took him to Northwind. They have a back office with a little blanket, so he lay down on that, and he just lay there. I sat by him and petted his ears and he didn’t evn move. You know how his skin was pink under the copper-colored hair? Well, when Dr. Russ shaved the little spot to get a good vein, his skin was just ivory. He was just gone. So we helped him not be so miserable for so long. Dr. Russ talked about how his mother died of cancer and he couldn’t do anything, but he could for the dog. And he gave me a big box of kleenex and we left. I kinda think he got some kind of a massive infection and it just hit him hard. Not something the antibiotic or anything could stop.
AND on the note of Spidge, the loopy cat we acquired a few months ago:
When Winston lay there so still, she’d sneak up behind him and sniff him then wander off. Now he’s not here, and she’s kinda jumpy. She swats at our legs a little more often, and races around the house. I think she’s not sure if he’s going to jump out at her. Well, she’ll still let me pick her up if she’s not feisty and all.
We have great neighbors:
Oh, and on Tuesday I had Winston outside, and Charles (little dogs person–has one named Treasure left–which figures) walked by, so W. barked at him. I’d been talking to Charles in Giant the night before, so I told him W. probably had gotten to the end. And he burst into tears, so we stood in the middle of the alley weeping and hugging. It must have been quite a scene.
I am a legitimate mess from all of this. I feel nauseated, my head hurts and I can’t stop feeling like something evil is gnawing away at me. The worst part is I feel like I’m shutting down. Just everything wants to close off and hide in a dark corner. It’s rather wretched. I remember this with Mack. . . walking around near Boston Medical Center in 98 degree heat in July. . . It was wretched. Thank goodness I had friends that told me to get out of the office, they’d explain what had happened to Roger.
This is . . . hard. Not as hard as losing Kitty, but bad enough. Grades are at stake. School is still looming and I feel like I’ve just been squished KERSPLAT!
At least Grant is here to help me feel better and be someone to lean on. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend right now. Seriously. I can’t express my gratitude enough to him and typing this while ignoring him is. . uh. . not nice, but I need to get it out of my system. Soon I’ll scribble things down in my actual journal. That should help.
I wonder if I have enough tissues. Or if I’ll sleep. I hope so, for both things.