The Writing

09 March, 2012

fretting

Lordy. Pooka is having a bad day. He got lost under the dining room table on the way to breakfast. Got turned around, ended up in the back of the apartment, knew there was food happening, and had a little bit of a meltdown. Most days, he keeps cool and figures out what happened for himself. Today, not so much. We got him into the kitchen with nudging, but I had to physically drag him across the floor to his dish. He kept spinning into the cabinets and going the wrong way and freaking out when he felt carpet instead of linoleum under his feet. When I touched him, he started purring--that omg, scared! purr--but he wouldn't stop trying to turn around and go the wrong way. Sometimes he calms down when you get both hands on him (never pick him up. Never never.) Not this time. He was too worked up. He calmed right down the minute he found his dish, though. Food, the constant in his universe.

I have a sinking feeling, you know? He's had mild feline dementia symptoms for a year, but going stone blind in January kinda accelerated it.

Nous is going back to see his parents in the last week of March for two days. Alone. We have no one to watch the cat. The best neighbor in the world moved 2 years ago. She could have done it; Pooka loved her. But I am afraid to leave him alone for days on end. The girls, sure, no problem. Four months ago, Pooka, too, would have been fine. But not now. And he would not do well, boarding at the vet's. No. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Louhi would be fine with boarding, but she's the only one. 

It's funny, how radically different their personalities are, these three black cats who live in our house.

Part of me says--stupid, to run your life according to feline needs. The in-laws are elderly, too. And they are people. But this damn cat and I have been together for 16 years. If I had a reliable cat-sitter, if The Rat lived nearby, I wouldn't worry. But I can't just leave him alone, even for 2 nights.

I am a little afraid he might not make it the whole month.

I am more than a little afraid of June. We got our housing extension through the 30th. But after that, the building is slated for demolition, and we're moving. Somewhere. Probably not far, probably just across the street, but that won't matter to him. A new floorplan is a new floorplan. I don't even know how he'll cope with that. Or if he can cope with that. And the upheaval around here as we pack up... that will set the girls off, too. I don't think there's enough Feliway in Southern California.