Yup. That’s right. Oscar the Cat has gone to live with the cats in heaven and is probably pissing all over St. Peter’s dirty clothes. [Thanks to the Twitterverse for helping me remember St. Peter.]
I called last Thursday to check on Oscar since Mondays and Thursdays are surgery days and I should have known by the receptionist’s voice that something was up-instead of being friendly and chatty, the second I asked after Oscar, she quickly informed me that the vet hadn’t made it in yet and that she would have him call me.
Well, he called and told me that Oscar had died on Wednesday while Oscar was anesthetized so that they could clean him up and shave him for surgery. Apparently Oscar just quit breathing and they couldn’t get him back to good.
I expected to be a lot more broken up about Oscar dying than I was/am. Don’t get me wrong here. It fucking sucks that Oscar is dead. Sucks. I had to face one of my biggest parenting fears-explaining death. And what’s funny [or maybe sad/pathetic] is that I used just about every option that I could think of.
Oscar went to live with someone else? Check ☑
Oscar isn’t going to come home again because he died? Check ☑
Sometimes when animals get really, really sick they go away and then they feel better? Check ☑
Honestly, I was grasping at straws and I held it together really well.
OK. That’s a lie.
I held it together until I saw Oscar’s litter box and then I just had to get it out of the house. Seeing it was too much. I called the vet and asked if they knew of anyone who needed a couple of bags of super premium cat food and a really nice litter box and tech. told me to just bring it to them.
Since I had errands to run that day, I tossed the kids, the litter box and the food in the car and went to drop the stuff off [not the kids] at the vet.
Hello, big time idiotic mistake of the month!
Cara was watching a DVD and didn’t realize where we were initially. BUT, when I got back in the car, Cara was WAILING about Oscar. “I want MY CAT! OSCAR!!! COME HOME! Oscar, I NEED YOU!!!”
I lost it. Plain and simple. Granted, I was driving and had to make sure that I didn’t run off the road or any of that craziness and I made sure that I was quiet with my snot snorting and all of that but it was still rough.
I think that I always knew that Oscar was never coming home again. I just didn’t really think that he was going to die. But watching Cara completely not understand why she couldn’t have her Oscar Cat back was the proverbial straw.
Cara seems to be taking it all in stride now. She’s mentioned Oscar once since the vet and that was today when Cara was petting Sophie’s belly. Cara said that Sophie was sick and that Sophie needed her cat to “make her happy”.
The resilience of a two year old never ceases to amaze me.
Tucker and I have batted around the idea of maybe getting a shelter dog once we get a house. It was Tucker’s idea and I think that he is trying to fill some sort of void that’s been left by Oscar not being here.
I haven’t written in a while not because I didn’t have anything to say but because I didn’t want to have to write this post. Then again, it’s not like I could jump into people being douche bags and dropping “friends” because something they said pissed them off without letting people know that Oscar has gone to that great big litter box in the sky.