RIP Polly 1990-2007
Jan. 26th, 2007 07:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annathepiperThat sucked about as hard as I was expecting, yeah.
A small part of me feels like it was too swift, too brutal a decision. The rest of me points out that Polly was in increasing distress and that prolonging it would probably have only made things worse. That as a kitty of the ripe old age of 17, we were going to be lucky to get a few more years out of her anyway. That since I couldn't do what I really wanted to do and fix the problem, the next best thing I was going to be able to manage would be to give her some peace.
The four of us went over to the center and were with her in her final moments. I held her and we all petted her. She was a fighter to the end.
This post is in her honor.
When we first got her, she completely flipped out about being moved into a new house. She spent about a week hiding in her litter box, and any time any of us tried to go anywhere near her, she'd start growling. The closer we got, the louder and higher-pitched her growl became. If we backed off, so did the growl. We discovered we could pretty much play her like a theramin, really. And about a week later she realized, "Holy crap, they're feeding me, maybe they're not evil." And she was fine ever since.
She was a beautiful burnt-orange color that slowly faded to rusty brown over time. Her eyes were green.
She had to have kitty surgery not long after we got her, because she developed stones in her bladder. This was a hugely traumatic experience for her, and required that she be kept overnight at her vet's. When we got her back the next day she'd had these weird air pockets inflate under her fur, which we were told was a stress reaction to the surgery. It made her look half again her normal size, and she crinkled like paper when she walked.
The surgery stressed her out enough that for months after she licked all the fur off her paws and belly. We had to start giving her kitty Prozac, and this eventually led to us getting her food bowl that said "Prozac Kitty" on it.
In the World According to Polly, all other cats were made entirely of Evil. Especially if they were brought into her space in the house. She snarled at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mamishka's Jiji the first time we tried to introduce them, and she also went ballistic at any sign of neighborhood cats around MurkNorth once we moved in.
Parrots, on the other hand, were made entirely of Lunch. Or else she would dearly loved to have proved, if we'd ever let her get anywhere near Zoe.
She never could climb worth a damn, so never got onto furniture higher than a table or a couch or a bed. Never found her on any high shelves.
One of her favorite games was Bappy Kitty, wherein she would be one side of the stair railing while her opponent, i.e., your hand, would be on the other. She would attempt to bap your hand through the railing. Polly always, always won Bappy Kitty.
She also very much liked the Make the Bed Game.
Her most favorite toy in the world ever was a long blue feather boa on a stick. That could keep her entertained for hours, as long as you kept it wriggling around like prey within pouncing distance.
She loved catnip toys as well, especially if they had long tails that she could pin with her paw.
If Polly touched you with the Paw of Possession, this was incontrovertible proof that you now belonged to the cat.
Her nose was perennially wet. And she never hesitated to show you this, because in the World of Polly, everything was made better with Cat Snot.
Her previous owner had had her declawed in front after she shredded up his leg. So when we got her, still at MurkSouth, we couldn't ever let her outside since she had reduced ability to defend herself--and not to mention that we lived on a very busy street. This never stopped her from trying to make a break for it any time the front door was opened, though.
And when we moved to MurkNorth, she was extremely confused about the whole idea that we'd let her out onto the deck as long as one of us were out there. When she prowled around the deck and ran into a spiderweb, that sent her scuttling right back inside.
Polly loved to snooze in warm places: in patches of sunlight, by radiators, on thick blankets.
If you were typing on a computer, you were clearly not paying enough attention to the cat. So she'd try to remind you of this by sprawling across your hands.
During one of our jam sessions at MurkSouth, Polly parked herself expectantly right next tofredpdx's dulcimer, just like she was ready to play.
She also liked to sleep in guitar cases. I wrote this haiku about that: "I'll sleep in the case / What? You put your guitar here? / Fuck off, I'm the cat."
I also wrote a Great Big Sea filk for her, "Feed the Cat", to the tune of "Beat the Drum". And I kept singing it every time it was time to feed her.
Since her previous owners' toddler had decided that she was a swing toy and had in fact grabbed her by the tail a few times and broken it, she was paranoid around small children ever since. Whenjanne visited us with her little girl, we had to warn then three-year-old Catriona not to pet that kitty, because she would get unexpectedly Pointy. We did not, unfortunately, know how to say "unexpectedly Pointy" in Norwegian. ETA 1/29/07 10:46am: I have my background on Polly wrong here; her previous owner, pierres, comments on the matter here.
She loved tuna. Well, duh, she was a cat, that kind of goes with the feline species contract. But as a young cat she teleported right into the kitchen every time we opened up a can of tuna as part of dinner. As an old cat, she'd still teleport. Only more slowly.
Two different vets found her too intractable to handle, but for us, she was a sweetie. She even letsolarbird bathe her.
She had the cutest little snore sometimes, when she was napping.
She was too smart to fall for the laser pointer game more than once.
She used to lay next tospazzkat while he played video games.
spazzkat used to keep a glass of water next to his bed for the kitty to lap from, and it eventually moved out to live next to his door. So she got used to one of her Water Places being his door. This transferred over to MurkNorth, where she applied the principle of "the door next to the room where Dara and Anna sleep has to be where the Water lives", even though the room was occupied by risu.
ETA 1/27/07 11:17am: She loved to recline on the backs of chairs. The comfy brown recliner in the living room was the Nice Cat Chair, since there was enough room up on the very back of the chair for her to sprawl out to keep someone in the chair company.
ETA 1/27/07 11:22am: Her favorite treats were Whisker Lickens, both the crunchy ones and the chewy ones. Her treat-eating spot at MurkSouth was the little hallway between the kitchen and the front door; her treat-eating spot at MurkNorth was right by the basement door.
ETA 1/27/07 11:29am: For the longest time she ate Atta Cat food, but then I had to shift her over to eating wet food on her vet's recommendation. She went to town on AvoDerm, which was mostly tuna meat with some crab mixed in.
ETA 1/27/07 11:30am:spazzkat was her very favorite person in the household.
ETA 1/27/07 11:30am: The Magic Nice Kitty Spot, the place you could skitch Polly and have her be very, very happy, was on top of her head right between her ears.
Some memories of Polly, fromsolarbird:
The important part of a door opening was the hinge. She was convinced of this. She'd look at the door to get let out, but she'd go over to the hinges and sniff and wait. And when you did open the door, she'd look try to look through at the hinge and then run around to where the door was actually open.
Also, the real magic spot was her face. She wanted her face skitched, particularly above her nose between her eyes.
Also, aerodynamic or wind-tunnel kitty, where you'd grab her head in a way to make her look all streamlined and pull her ears back, and she'd be wind-tunnel kitty, and how she mostly just kind of thought that was okay.
And she didn't like sleeping on people. Next to, yes; she'd climb on you to get somewhere, yes; she liked it if you made couch and blanket (and leg...) canyons for her to sleep in. But she hated sleeping on people and didn't even like to be held on top of people.
She always wanted to have paws on ground. That's what she didn't like about being held. So if you grabbed her rear paws (in particular) while holding her, she felt better and would put up with it a lot longer.
If grabbed and wrapped up in arms and stuff against pillows, she'd stay that way for about 30-40 seconds before she'd start getting all squirmy and want out.
And here's a couple more of mine:
Polly had a complete and total foot fetish, but only during dinner. It was the damndest thing. We'd all be eating dinner at the table and she'd come over under the table and start nudging my feet until I skitched her under the chin with my toes.
Aside from the dangling blue feather toy, she loved all things that were string-like. If I was tying my shoes, she'd sometimes come over and try to slap her paw down on the dangling bits of my shoelaces. She did that too more than once when I was trying to string my guitar. And there was this one time--after one of my thyroid surgeries, I think--when I had a get-well balloon in the living room of MurkSouth, and it'd just be hanging there floating up by the ceiling with its ribbon hanging down. She was entertained by that for hours.
Pictures of Polly are now posted here.
solarbird has a couple of pictures and some video snippets here.
ETA 1/27/07 11:26am:spazzkat has thoughts on Polly here. And I've added more memories to the list.
ETA 1/28/07 9:13pm: More Polly memories added.
ETA 1/29/07 10:47am: Polly's previous owner chimes in with some memories of his own and corrections to her background. Thanks, Pierre. Much appreciated.
She was a good cat. We loved her and will miss her.
Sleep well, kitty.
A small part of me feels like it was too swift, too brutal a decision. The rest of me points out that Polly was in increasing distress and that prolonging it would probably have only made things worse. That as a kitty of the ripe old age of 17, we were going to be lucky to get a few more years out of her anyway. That since I couldn't do what I really wanted to do and fix the problem, the next best thing I was going to be able to manage would be to give her some peace.
The four of us went over to the center and were with her in her final moments. I held her and we all petted her. She was a fighter to the end.
This post is in her honor.
When we first got her, she completely flipped out about being moved into a new house. She spent about a week hiding in her litter box, and any time any of us tried to go anywhere near her, she'd start growling. The closer we got, the louder and higher-pitched her growl became. If we backed off, so did the growl. We discovered we could pretty much play her like a theramin, really. And about a week later she realized, "Holy crap, they're feeding me, maybe they're not evil." And she was fine ever since.
She was a beautiful burnt-orange color that slowly faded to rusty brown over time. Her eyes were green.
She had to have kitty surgery not long after we got her, because she developed stones in her bladder. This was a hugely traumatic experience for her, and required that she be kept overnight at her vet's. When we got her back the next day she'd had these weird air pockets inflate under her fur, which we were told was a stress reaction to the surgery. It made her look half again her normal size, and she crinkled like paper when she walked.
The surgery stressed her out enough that for months after she licked all the fur off her paws and belly. We had to start giving her kitty Prozac, and this eventually led to us getting her food bowl that said "Prozac Kitty" on it.
In the World According to Polly, all other cats were made entirely of Evil. Especially if they were brought into her space in the house. She snarled at
mamishka's Jiji the first time we tried to introduce them, and she also went ballistic at any sign of neighborhood cats around MurkNorth once we moved in.Parrots, on the other hand, were made entirely of Lunch. Or else she would dearly loved to have proved, if we'd ever let her get anywhere near Zoe.
She never could climb worth a damn, so never got onto furniture higher than a table or a couch or a bed. Never found her on any high shelves.
One of her favorite games was Bappy Kitty, wherein she would be one side of the stair railing while her opponent, i.e., your hand, would be on the other. She would attempt to bap your hand through the railing. Polly always, always won Bappy Kitty.
She also very much liked the Make the Bed Game.
Her most favorite toy in the world ever was a long blue feather boa on a stick. That could keep her entertained for hours, as long as you kept it wriggling around like prey within pouncing distance.
She loved catnip toys as well, especially if they had long tails that she could pin with her paw.
If Polly touched you with the Paw of Possession, this was incontrovertible proof that you now belonged to the cat.
Her nose was perennially wet. And she never hesitated to show you this, because in the World of Polly, everything was made better with Cat Snot.
Her previous owner had had her declawed in front after she shredded up his leg. So when we got her, still at MurkSouth, we couldn't ever let her outside since she had reduced ability to defend herself--and not to mention that we lived on a very busy street. This never stopped her from trying to make a break for it any time the front door was opened, though.
And when we moved to MurkNorth, she was extremely confused about the whole idea that we'd let her out onto the deck as long as one of us were out there. When she prowled around the deck and ran into a spiderweb, that sent her scuttling right back inside.
Polly loved to snooze in warm places: in patches of sunlight, by radiators, on thick blankets.
If you were typing on a computer, you were clearly not paying enough attention to the cat. So she'd try to remind you of this by sprawling across your hands.
During one of our jam sessions at MurkSouth, Polly parked herself expectantly right next to
fredpdx's dulcimer, just like she was ready to play.She also liked to sleep in guitar cases. I wrote this haiku about that: "I'll sleep in the case / What? You put your guitar here? / Fuck off, I'm the cat."
I also wrote a Great Big Sea filk for her, "Feed the Cat", to the tune of "Beat the Drum". And I kept singing it every time it was time to feed her.
Since her previous owners' toddler had decided that she was a swing toy and had in fact grabbed her by the tail a few times and broken it, she was paranoid around small children ever since. When
janne visited us with her little girl, we had to warn then three-year-old Catriona not to pet that kitty, because she would get unexpectedly Pointy. We did not, unfortunately, know how to say "unexpectedly Pointy" in Norwegian. ETA 1/29/07 10:46am: I have my background on Polly wrong here; her previous owner, pierres, comments on the matter here.She loved tuna. Well, duh, she was a cat, that kind of goes with the feline species contract. But as a young cat she teleported right into the kitchen every time we opened up a can of tuna as part of dinner. As an old cat, she'd still teleport. Only more slowly.
Two different vets found her too intractable to handle, but for us, she was a sweetie. She even let
solarbird bathe her.She had the cutest little snore sometimes, when she was napping.
She was too smart to fall for the laser pointer game more than once.
She used to lay next to
spazzkat while he played video games.spazzkat used to keep a glass of water next to his bed for the kitty to lap from, and it eventually moved out to live next to his door. So she got used to one of her Water Places being his door. This transferred over to MurkNorth, where she applied the principle of "the door next to the room where Dara and Anna sleep has to be where the Water lives", even though the room was occupied by risu.ETA 1/27/07 11:17am: She loved to recline on the backs of chairs. The comfy brown recliner in the living room was the Nice Cat Chair, since there was enough room up on the very back of the chair for her to sprawl out to keep someone in the chair company.
ETA 1/27/07 11:22am: Her favorite treats were Whisker Lickens, both the crunchy ones and the chewy ones. Her treat-eating spot at MurkSouth was the little hallway between the kitchen and the front door; her treat-eating spot at MurkNorth was right by the basement door.
ETA 1/27/07 11:29am: For the longest time she ate Atta Cat food, but then I had to shift her over to eating wet food on her vet's recommendation. She went to town on AvoDerm, which was mostly tuna meat with some crab mixed in.
ETA 1/27/07 11:30am:
spazzkat was her very favorite person in the household.ETA 1/27/07 11:30am: The Magic Nice Kitty Spot, the place you could skitch Polly and have her be very, very happy, was on top of her head right between her ears.
Some memories of Polly, from
solarbird:The important part of a door opening was the hinge. She was convinced of this. She'd look at the door to get let out, but she'd go over to the hinges and sniff and wait. And when you did open the door, she'd look try to look through at the hinge and then run around to where the door was actually open.
Also, the real magic spot was her face. She wanted her face skitched, particularly above her nose between her eyes.
Also, aerodynamic or wind-tunnel kitty, where you'd grab her head in a way to make her look all streamlined and pull her ears back, and she'd be wind-tunnel kitty, and how she mostly just kind of thought that was okay.
And she didn't like sleeping on people. Next to, yes; she'd climb on you to get somewhere, yes; she liked it if you made couch and blanket (and leg...) canyons for her to sleep in. But she hated sleeping on people and didn't even like to be held on top of people.
She always wanted to have paws on ground. That's what she didn't like about being held. So if you grabbed her rear paws (in particular) while holding her, she felt better and would put up with it a lot longer.
If grabbed and wrapped up in arms and stuff against pillows, she'd stay that way for about 30-40 seconds before she'd start getting all squirmy and want out.
And here's a couple more of mine:
Polly had a complete and total foot fetish, but only during dinner. It was the damndest thing. We'd all be eating dinner at the table and she'd come over under the table and start nudging my feet until I skitched her under the chin with my toes.
Aside from the dangling blue feather toy, she loved all things that were string-like. If I was tying my shoes, she'd sometimes come over and try to slap her paw down on the dangling bits of my shoelaces. She did that too more than once when I was trying to string my guitar. And there was this one time--after one of my thyroid surgeries, I think--when I had a get-well balloon in the living room of MurkSouth, and it'd just be hanging there floating up by the ceiling with its ribbon hanging down. She was entertained by that for hours.
Pictures of Polly are now posted here.
solarbird has a couple of pictures and some video snippets here.ETA 1/27/07 11:26am:
spazzkat has thoughts on Polly here. And I've added more memories to the list.ETA 1/28/07 9:13pm: More Polly memories added.
ETA 1/29/07 10:47am: Polly's previous owner chimes in with some memories of his own and corrections to her background. Thanks, Pierre. Much appreciated.
She was a good cat. We loved her and will miss her.
Sleep well, kitty.
