Damn.

Our cats have not been well. Last week Alex had to take them to the vet almost every day because, as is common for elderly house cats, their kidneys appear to be giving up. Both Shiva and Shanti are seventeen. 

Shanti

It is just

I just want to stop here and point out that I didn't name these cats. They came with the then-boyfriend (now-husband) 14 years ago, when they were already three years old. 

I can't possibly imagine what the inspiration for such names might have been back then (some mysteries will never be solved), but it turns out that the respective namesake gods were channeled fully. 

completely

Shanti has always been a peaceful sun-spot sleeper, and Shiva has spent most of her life trying to destroy creation in a profound cosmic cycle of handbag->urine->new handbag, the experience of which has helped me personally to emotionally detach from my material possessions, like purses and these damn cats*. Om Namah Shivaya.  

Anyway, so Shiva and Shanti were taking antibiotics and infusions and painkillers, and generally were not doing well. The vet told Alex we might have to put Shiva down. 

inexplicable. 

My children love these cats, and so I thought I should tell them now that they might not be with us for very much longer. This is a tough conversation, so I took a moment to centre myself. 

"Hey girls, I need to talk to you," I said. "It's about the cats. They're very sick."

I looked at the the Nugget, my three-year old. This was totally gonna crush her. She loves those cats with all of her heart, because unlike the five-year old Noodle, Miss Nugget only has these kitties to hug and love and squeeze forever. 

"They're very sick," I said again. 

The Nugget looked up at me. And then she put on her cape and flew off to save the world. Nevermind, I thought. She's three. I'll talk to her later. 

Nugget and Shiva in her cardboard cat house (thanks, #CraftyDad)

I turned my attentions to the Nugget, who was literally humming in an attempt to ignore me. "They're both sick, but Shiva is really sick," I said. "If she gets sicker, she might not be with us for much longer." 

The Nugget stopped humming. "She might die," she said. 

"That's right," I said. "We hope not, but it might happen." 

The Nugget looked at me with her big, cow-like blue eyes. I was so ready. 

"But if she dies..." she said. 

"We will be very sad," I agreed. 

"...Then we can get a puppy," she continued. "I've always wanted a puppy." 

"Um," I said. 

As usual, my husband, Namer of Cats, was in the background choking on his coffee and cackling. This always happens when I commit acts of proactive parenting. 

Noodle and one of the cats I thought she loved <3

"Ooh ooh, or can we get a bunny rabbit?", she asked. "I've always wanted to have a cute little baby bunny rabbit that goes squeak squeak and it can sleep in my bed and we'll feed it carrots!"

"Wow," I said. 

And then I got up to put on a sweater, because that s*** was cold. 

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*I don't actually consider cats to be material possessions, because I don't think that we can own other living creatures. I don't even think we own ourselves, only the things we choose to do. Also, to be 100% clear, this paragraph is intended to make fun of myself and not any aspect of other peoples' faith. 

P.S. The antibiotics seemed to have worked and both cats are now doing much better and are eating and drinking. Thanks for asking. I appreciate that you, unlike my stony-hearted children, might actually care. Ha! 

P.P.S. I know, I know, they do care.