The Loudest Man I Ever Slept With…

?-July 23, 2009

Insomnia by Cat

I took this video in May, when Sheikh was still sleeping above my head.

Not very long ago, he was his usual fat and fluffy self, but then became boney and light as air in a few short weeks. He eventually

stopped eating altogether. He hid out most of the time, and what kept me awake during that time was not his snoring, but my nerves, while I tried to search him out, hoping not to find him dead under the stairs or the couch.

“He’s old, though,” I thought. “It may soon be time…”

Monday, he stopped drinking water. By 5 am Tuesday morning, he was gone. I wish now that I could say I’d just found him dead, having gone to sleep and stayed that way. The way he did die was hard to watch – he was in pain, a lot of pain, I think, and I have a huge amount of guilt over not getting him to a vet in time to either heal him of whatever caused this, or to save him from a such a hard death.

He was wonderful company for the last few years. I’m really going to miss him…

We took him out to The Dog-Lady’s farm to bury him. On the way there, I told The Evil Hypnotist that no way were we getting another cat. I don’t want to get attached to any more pets. No. Way.

Ky was upset: The Patchouli-Cat has never been alone… she will miss Sheikh, too… she needs another cat for company….

No. Way.

When we got there, I opened my door to step out, and five large dogs piled into the van. I was trying to get them out when they noticed the box with Sheikh in it. It was really odd to watch them. They obviously realized that whatever was in that box was dead, and I would have expected them to try to get into it, but they didn’t. They got very quiet, sniffed at the box, and one by one (by one, by one, by one) they all filed back out the driver’s door.

By the time I got over to Ky, she was sitting in a lawn-chair, cuddling a teeny-tiny black kitten.

Well, shit.

I said, “No. Way.

She said, “Please…?”

I said, “No. Way.

She said, “Pleeeeeeaaaaaaase?!”

I looked at The Dog-Lady, and said, “Help me, would you?”

And The Dog-Lady looked back at me and replied, “Hey, you owe me. I took your dog.”


For the record, I am not attached to this little monster. Not.

Random Song-for-the-Day: “This is How You Remind Me” – Nickleback

9 Replies to “The Loudest Man I Ever Slept With…”

  1. That new kitty is absolutely awful. Not cute in the least. I can see why you’re not attached 😉

    Try not to be too hard on yourself about not getting Sheikh to the vet. It could have gone either way, really. He might have been even more traumatized by being toted off in the car and being poked and probed and thumped, and the outcome wouldn’t be any different. At least this way, he was at home.

    Les Says: Yeah… still wish I’d had him put to sleep, though. It was nasty.

    And as for the new little thing… I’m not attached. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not.


  2. Death is part of life, huh. Getting attached to a pet is pretty healthy, and mourning the death of a loved pet is part of life. The new kitten is blessed to be welcomed into a loving home. Have fun with the new darling. I so wish I could have one where I am living now.

    Les Says: I would have much more fun with the “new darling” if she would quit climbing up into bed with me and staring into my face. And snuggling down by my neck. Etc. Etc.

    Tell me if your location/pet accommodation situation changes – I will pack the thing up and ship it to you. I do not WANT to grow fond of this one.

  3. so sorry about Sheikh- No matter what we do when our pets die we always wonder if we could have/ should have done something other than what we did.

    As for the kitten? you are a sucker!!!!!

    Les Says: Augh, tell me about it! The little bugger won’t leave me alone, either… curls up with me… listens intently when I speak at it, cocking its head to the side (even though I’m calling it nasty names)… has taken to sleeping in Sheikh’s favourite spot, which only makes me want to hate it more…

    I DO hate it. I DO.

    (I do.)

  4. I tried to speed-read this so I wouldn’t be sobbing the rest of the night. My uneducated guess is that the vet couldn’t have helped but COULD have been very expensive. That kind of problem I’ve never seen getting fixed, and sometimes they never figure out what it was.

    Shetbag indeed!

    Les Says: Yes, a vet would have cost more money than I had – when we needed one. By the time it occurred to me to just take him down and have him taken care of – and tell them AFTER putting him to sleep that I would have to “pay later” – it was too late.

    I always was a little slow on the uptake.

  5. Oh Sweetie, how sad. My Jess is twelve now, she’s slowing down and taking herself off more and more. I hate pets have such a short lifespan compared to us humans.

    I can understand how so NOT attached you must be by now to little Shetbag, after all, she is sooooo uncuddly and not in the least bit cute, is she? Sheesh, those big blue eyes and that fluffy black fur is not at all in the least bit heart-melting, is it? (Wink.)

    Love the name. (Hugs)

    Les Says: No. She is none of those things. She is a shetbag, and a betch, and not a good form of either.

    (Still not attached. NOT.)

  6. So sorry about Sheikh. He forgives you, you know. And Suzi’s right, he may have hated the whole vet thing even more.
    The new one? Hmmmm I have a matching bookend for her. She likes to get in the washer and prefers ice cubes in the water dish. And has the audacity to be just about as cute as they make them. Shetbag.

    Les Says: Sheikh and Patchouli always like(d) ice cubes in the water… I don’t provide ice to the new thing, ‘cuz I’m trying to ignore her. Sometimes I even manage. If she tries to sneak into my laundry closet even one more time, though, I will put her in the washer and turn it on.

  7. How did I miss this? I’m so sorry to hear about Sheik’s demise. Those damn furballs get into your heart and never let go. I’m still missing my Calico and she’s been gone six and a half years. I loved that cat.

    So that new one there. Um, she looks sorta high maintenance in a you-will-love-me-as-soon-as-you-set-eyes-on-me kind of way. I think you never had a chance, Les.

    Now tell me, what’s her name — Shetbag or Betch?

    Les Says: Her name is “Luna”. Ky sometimes calls her “Lunar-Lander”. I generally call her “Little F-ing Monster Get the F Out from Under My Feet”. It suits her.

    The “not attached” thing has still managed to backfire on me, though… I’ve grown closer to The Patchouli-Cat now. She never liked me much before, but has decided to come over to my side against the F-ing Monster, it seems.

  8. Our dog and cat respectfully sniffed our other cat who had died while we were on vacation. They knew.

    He was a black cat, BTW.

    We went from two cats to one. And then to two. And suddenly three. That’s where it has to stop — we have no more room for litter boxes!

    Oh, if that’s the loudest snoring you’ve ever heard, you’ve obviously not slept with me. You haven’t, right? Just checking.

    Les Says: I’m not sure… where were you in the early 80’s?

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