Let's be honest, Flanders was never a "good" cat. He wouldn't let you pick him up, he was scared of everything and he had a habit of peeing and puking on anything that might be difficult to clean. He cost us thousands and thousands of dollars over the years, from the destroyed attic in the Berkeley home we rented, to the stained carpets and the final vet bills. Of course that didn't stop me from loving him and mourning his passing.
I rarely mention Bascom, our ten year old 45 pound black lab/mix. I got her in the nesting phase of my life, before children, when I was simply trying on the idea of being a responsible adult and "dog mommy." She was an adorable and well loved puppy. We took her on hikes, picnics, and even threw her a giant first birthday party. Yes, we were those people.My relationship with Bascom has changed over the years as our children have taken priority and zapped our energy. I curse the little black furs I find covering our floors, and despise the waste pick-up in our yard and on walks. Yet she is a good enough dog. She has always been kind to our children and withstood everything from championship dog-ridding to tail pulling with good cheer.
Upon returning from our vacation my in-laws (who were kindly running the ship in our absence) informed us that Bascom did not seem well. She wasn't eating, was lethargic and had taken to drooling. Not to mention that she stinks. She has smelled for some time, but I can't even stand to be near her now. No less than two weeks after visiting Broadway Pet Hospital with Flanders, I now needed to return with our dog, at least it was convenient, my cat's ashes were ready for pick up.
So today I am one cat memorial richer (see picture) and $1500 poorer.
Tell me again why we love our pets?