Worse kitty news
We finally had Amelia executed on Saturday.
It got to the point where if she was not cooped up in a crate or a bathroom, she was urinating on our floors.
We determined it was “time” while I was in the middle of mowing the lawn, so my wife brought her to the vet.
My wife knows how I joke that my dad is my family’s pet executioner (he had to put down two cats and a dog), so she asked me not to publicly call her the family pet executioner. Therefore, for the purposes of blog, my wife is not the pet executioner.
The cat’s corpse apparently ends up in a mass grave. That’s fine with me.
Some vets offer a service to have the pet cremated and return the cremains back to the owner. I feel that is a silly outgrowth of personifying animals. Sorry, cats are animals. Animals are no substitute for actual human companionship.
Overall, haven’t felt much sadness. Even though I liked her, Amelia got annoyingly messy and labor intensive towards the end. And she’s just a cat.
We’re taking a “cat break” right now. Growing up, I never understood why people didn’t immediately rush out in a pet acquisition frenzy after losing a pet. Now I understand. I am (temporarily) sick of scooping, messes, hairballs, and cat maintenance. And the neighbors have a new outdoor kitten that Alec and I can annoy.