Friday, September 21, 2007
We are missing a cat in our household. Well, The Cat really.
Tigger, our 17-year old, scruffy, gray tabby hasn't come home to eat since last night. It's not that he doesn't occasionally miss a meal, but he has been aging rapidly this year and had quit grooming himself of late, probably due to arthritis in his back legs and pelvis.
He also couldn't gain weight no matter how much he ate - and he ate a lot. I'm sure we could have taken him to the vet - at great physical peril to ourselves - but he's 17, an outdoor cat, and still seemed to be moving mostly okay. His coat, until he stopped grooming, was soft and thick, too. Actually, it was still soft and thick, but he had bad dread-wads on his hind end that we had to start cutting out.
Steve and I have both searched everywhere we know to search, and every meow makes us look up and check the back door, but we think he has probably crawled off somewhere to end his days peacefully.
We always wanted to figure out a way for Tigger and Lena to meet, but never could. It's too bad, they have a lot in common and could have shared stupid owner stories for days.
Tigger, wherever you are, we love you and we miss you.
Now I'm hoping for that ironic twist that would make him saunter in the back door the second I publish this post.