Eventually, The Black Cat died of old age. The Striped Cat didn’t get any friendlier, but some of the really egregious behavior stopped.
The Child started begging for a kitten.
The Departed said No More Pets.
Then The Departed left and refused to pay the mortgage or cooperate with the divorce process in any way – except, of course, to demand that I deliver one item of his choosing daily within 24 hours of him deciding he needed it, and by the way, he’d be needing alimony to supplement his income.
At right about that time, I got an email from the Humane Society that said they had a very large quantity of kittens and adoption fees were reduced.
We got a sweet little Siamese boy.
The Child was ecstatic, and named him, and chose toys for him, and carried him around the house perched on her shoulder as though she was a pirate and he was her parrot.
He slept in my bedroom at first, because that’s where she slept after He left. Then she decided that with The Siamese to keep her company, she could move back into her own room. She didn’t want to hurt my feelings, she said, but she and The Siamese “need our space.”
I refrained from saying “me too,” and just smiled at this longed-for turn of events.
Striped, though, was furious at this turn of events, and let everyone know it. She attacked The Siamese whenever she saw him; he quickly learned what his escape routes were and that my lap was a safe place. She peed on everything. Constantly.
I read all the suggestions on the internet and spoke to the Vet repeatedly. I got Striped a collar with pheromones in it that were supposed to mellow her out. She did become sweeter, except when she was peeing on the furniture or she saw The Siamese. She vomited constantly and began to lose weight.
I took her to the vet, who thought she might have cancer.
I scheduled an appointment – that last appointment. You know the one I mean.
I put her in my bedroom, which has a large master bath – plenty of space for her all on her own. I resolved to make her last few days happy and peaceful.
After a couple of days of crying, I realized she had stopped vomiting. The Vet thought perhaps it was just anxiety related to The Siamese. She suggested medication for that. I considered it and decide to just see how Striped did having her own domain.
The appointment was canceled.
She seemed to do okay at first. Maybe it was just the fact that I no longer had to clean up cat vomit daily that made it seem that way.
I started noticing wet spots on my bed. Often, I didn’t discover them until the wee hours of the night, when I’d roll over in my sleep and suddenly feel a clammy dampness. I’m not getting a lot of sleep as it is, and this is obviously not helping.
One night, I put clean sheets on the bed right when I went to sleep. Clean and dry. I went to sleep, with Striped on the pillow next to mine.
At 3am, my feet moved into a spot that was soaking wet.
She was peeing in my bed while I was sleeping in it.
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