Your Mom’s On the Roof

My favorite joke is about the man who went on vacation and left his cat with his brother. While away he called his brother to ask about the cat. “He died,” said the brother. “What?!!!,” replied the other brother. “You’re not supposed to just come out and tell me like that. The first night I call you’re supposed to say the cat is on the roof. The next time I call you’re supposed to tell me that the cat won’t eat or drink and you are worried. The third night I call you tell me that the cat died. Got it?” “Got it.” “Okay, good,” said the brother on vacation. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” The next day the vacationing brother calls and asks, “So how is everything going?” trying to make pleasant chit chat.

“Mom’s on the roof.”

 

Some days just end with a dead cat. I have a confession to make, dear non-existent blog followers and facebook friends: my beloved old cat, Cooper, was euthanized this evening at approximately 7:30pm at the emergency vet. Yes. I know I RIP’d him via status update at about 3:00. I had cut my KC trip short and rushed home at the news that my dear 16 year old pet, whom I rescued twelve years ago from the home of a friend who could not handle both addiction and pet ownership, had fallen, lost the use of his back legs and was fading fast. The plan was that my husband was going to take him back to the vet, after giving us a chance to say goodbye. I had broken the news to my kids and held him for what I believed to be the last time, and had just posted his (projected) demise when my husband balked, suddenly unsure that we were doing the right thing. My first response, unspoken of course, was “you can’t do that, I just killed him on facebook.”

 

Of course I cried.  We all did.  But that doesn’t make the status update conundrum less funny.  The rest of the afternoon was a bit surreal. After the eleventh hour pardon, I continued to respond to the kind condolences of my friends, even as I was sitting next to the poor cat. Finally, realizing that we might still have the cat tomorrow, I deleted the post with no explanation. Then we changed our minds for the last time and my husband took him away as my children howled on the front porch.

 

The fact that my children are solemnly preserving cat food in those little ceramic boxes that I am supposed to be using to save their first lost tooth, while switching back and forth between tears and giggles and Tom and Jerry DVD’s should tell you how qualified I am to guide them through this important life experience.

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