Parting is such sweet sorrow

It would appear that we have lost our cat. We acquired the cat right around when Clark and I got married. She was found by a friend of ours in Parowan, and Clark rescued her from being taken home to see how she got along with said friend's two very large dogs. I enjoyed her somewhat as a kitten, but Clark had a bad habit of playing rough with her and letting her bite his hands and wrestle. This, of course led to us having a cat who didn't know how to play nice. She used to attack us at night while we were sleeping, so I insisted she be chased out of the bedroom at bedtime. She also was merciless about clawing the furniture. I tried my best to allow her to claw one of our old crusty chairs in the office in the hopes that she'd stop clawing the new couch in the family room. No luck. She destroyed (I mean, seriously destroyed) our 2 couches, and the box spring in the bedroom, and when she put a large scratch down the side of our new leather chair I insisted she be declawed. I also learned pretty quick that I have a serious aversion to cat hair, probably since I never had pets as a kid, and my mother is a neat freak anyways, but I couldn't stand the nasty black cat hair EVERYWHERE.

She was pretty happy in our first official house. She was obviously an inside cat, since she had no claws by this time, but we had an old basement (pioneer era, dirt floor and all) that she liked to hide and play in. We didn't see too much of her unless it was really cold and she came up to sleep by the fireplace. The trouble started when we moved into the new house and had Madeline. A move and a new baby didn't do much to impress the cat. It probably didn't help that she didn't have a hiding place any more either. She started pissing on my new carpet, which I must tell you, I was totally unimpressed with. I, having my hands more than full with a brand new baby, told Clark it was going to be his responsibility to clean up after the damn cat. He didn't do such a great or thorough job of it, unfortunately, and she continued destroying the carpet. This was the beginning of the end of my tolerant relationship with the cat. I eventually had professionals in to clean the carpet, which included replacing the carpet pad, and several stages of nasty chemicals. The pissing on the carpet seemed to get under control, but shitting and vomiting on the carpet were still very regular occurrences.

Enter, child #2, sweet Zach. As I've mentioned before, Zach is/was terrified of the cat, for reasons known only to him. So now, the cat was not only a mess making, fur shedding, nuisance, she was freaking out my kid. Forgive me, cat lovers, but I was starting to hate the cat. As much as I tried to care for her, it's just not in me to be a pet person I'm afraid. The cat and I started giving each other a wide margin around the house most of the time. When we decided to move to Albuquerque I told Clark I really didn't want to move the cat. I was stuck in Cedar by myself for the last month or so, and was NOT going to manage driving the kids AND the cat to Albuquerque. He made a half-hearted attempt at finding the cat a new home, but didn't. When he came home for Christmas, I laid it on the line, the cat will not be in my care when you leave, whatever that means. So, he took the cat back with him to his little studio apartment. Whatever. The new house has white carpet (who's great idea that was I have no idea), and the black cat hair is an even bigger pain here than it was there, but we do have a laundry room for the cat box, which is a huge improvement over it being in my closet, which is where it was in the old house. She has also regrown a few claws, and had started destroying furniture again.

To wrap up this cat story, which is getting too long, a few days ago, Clark asked me when the last time I saw the cat was. I had no idea, hadn't even really noticed that she wasn't around. OK, so, we assume she's hiding somewhere, and will show up again soon. Another day goes by, no cat. So, night before last, Clark goes on the cat hunt. The cat is not hiding, as a matter of fact, is not anywhere in the house. Neither of us has any idea how the cat would have got out, or where the cat might be. She's not typically the type to run away or try to get out, and the couple times she's wandered out the back door, she has immediately cried loudly to be let back in.

Clark is pretty sad about losing the cat. I feel for him, and I know his sorrow is real. I, however, am feeling just a tad guilty that I'm not really sad about losing the cat at all. I'm choosing to believe that she got out, and had one big kitty adventure out there in the big world, and that if misfortune has befallen her, it was quick and painless. The kids haven't really noticed that she's gone, and I'm not sure how we'll approach it with them when then do notice. I'm thinking I'm going to go for the kitty adventure track, but maybe without the possible misfortune aspect. In any case, it seems to be farewell to the cat, may you find peace and lots of couches to shred in your next incarnation.