We have had a sad little weekend. We did get snow on Thursday and we went out to play in it (and by "we" I mean Mark and the kids). We got out of school on Friday, which was great because I felt like I had been run over by an 18-wheeler. I stayed in bed most of the day and the kids, bless their hearts, played very well together.
What we did not know up in our Vicks Vaporub stupor was that our poor little cat Piper was not doing well. He passed away sometime Friday. He had been acting strange for about 2 weeks and recently quit eating or drinking. I truly did not think he was sick enough to die.
Since he is gone, I feel compelled to tell his little story.
It was August 2008. Saturday. I was enjoying my early morning sleep when Mark ran into the room waking me up asking me if I heard that noise. Yes, I had been ignoring it for an hour...what in the world is it? He says that he thinks a cat is stuck in our drainpipe. I respond with, if he is so dumb to crawl up the pipe and can't get down, we should probably just let him die in there because he'll never make it in the outside world. I would soon find out how prophetic that statement was.
I feel like I should interrupt myself and insert here that I am a dog person.
Ok...so outside we go and Mark goes out to the driveway where the extension of the drainpipe is. I go up closer to the house where the extension is attached to the drainpipe. I am standing there watching, irritated because my kids are still sleeping and I COULD be sleeping but instead I am outside in the early morning 101 degree heat waiting to see this thing stuck in our pipe. I kinda got irritated at Mark's very little progress on detaching the extension from the drainpipe and so I say something like, "why don't you come up here and pull it off right here where it is attached?" POP! It is detached. And as it detaches he says something like, "Well, I am not sure that there isn't a snake attached to the end of whatever that is."
I jumped over him to land very far back on the driveway just as a gray furry ball of stink flopped out of the pipe...with no snake attached.
He crawled over to the nearest bush and huddled at the base shivering, but no longer crying. Mark grabs a towel and scoops it right up. Mark...my husband who is highly allergic to cats. He has me go get milk (which the cat would not drink) and then, you won't believe this, sends ME to the store to buy all I need for the cat.
Reminder....I don't like cats. Mark is allergic. This one stinks and can't get out of a pipe! By the time I got back, the kids were up, the cat was bathed (and smelled like my children because Mark used their shampoo) and he was named...Piper. So cute.
Now I am going to go quickly: But I went....bought lots of stuff...got up every 2 hours to feed him kitten replacement milk with a medicine dropper...realized he did not know what a litter box was (which, by the way, is an instinct in cats), was depressed (diagnosed by vet), had worms, never learned to use litter box, cried constantly, never slept in our presence, cried even when he was around us, had to move him to garage because of the whole litter box thing....
He was not very smart, but he was loyal. And he will be missed around here. He was spoken of highly today by the kids. Sometimes Mark and I think we still hear him crying...
I miss the little guy too...even if I am a dog person.
Daughter of the King, changed my life; trying to be a godly woman, mother and wife; Mother of two, a boy and girl; fourth grade teacher, what a whirl; faithful to trust, to believe and pray; listening to God, my direction each day; striving to make him known to the world; striving to be His kinda girl.