Vancouver

I love introducing my cat. This is Pink. Not fluffy, snowball, mittens, boots or kitty.

Pink.

She is not pink. She does have a pink tongue, however she was not named after the colour of her tongue. She is black. Pink does have one white spot on her chest. Oh, and about 5 (maybe 6) white hairs sticking out of her chin.

Pink is not cuddly. Pink appreciates acknowledgment, but not attention. She will bite. Pink bites because she cannot scratch. She still "scratches" things though, she likes anything with a rough nylon texture: backpacks, suitcases, bags, etc. She will occasionally play with a bag, box or laundry basket. She loves to be trapped by the laundry basket. She will comfortably settle in to a laundry basket cage. Maybe she wants to be a cage fighter? That might explain the biting.

Pink has a very uninteresting home life. She sleeps. When she wakes up, she eats. After she is done eating she sleeps in the living room some more. Then she eats. When Dori and I come home, she acknowledges us, eats and watches us. Then she eats and comes to bed with us. Sometime in the middle of the night she wakes up and eats. Then comes back to bed. In the morning she eats again. I think I missed a couple of meals in there. Pink eats 8 times a day.

We first bought Pink an automatic feeder 4 years ago. This was in desperation because even though we consistently fed Pink twice a day, she always woke Dori in the morning. I guess she was never sure if we were going to feed her that day. Her first feeder was like a wind up toy. There was a winder that lasted 36 hours. Over the course of a day it would rotate a lid, revealing a fresh food dish four times.

We thought this would provide four satisfying meals, but we left out the Pink factor. We started by filling all four dishes and letting it go. We suddenly realised that as soon as the next food dish was even slightly open, Pink would jam her little black paw into the crack and fish out food. Thus began the three-times-a-day battle of Pink vs. Food Dispenser. Food Dispenser had no chance. Pink has hyperthyroidism, which causes her to have an unsatiable appetite. This appetite meant that, at all costs, Pink would wear down Food Dispenser until she was able to get even just one piece of cat food.

Pink's unsatiable appetite was why she weighed so much. In her early pre-diagnosis years she ate as much food as she could. At one point, we shaved her back, because she was too big to clean herself. Once we removed her back fur dreads, she started her first diet. This was just before Dori moved, with Pink, to attend university.

When Dori and I started dating I had no idea I would be living with Pink. When I first met her she would not come out from under the bed... unless there was food... but only briefly. It was a tentative relationship, we understood that we had to live together, but weren't sure we wanted to. After years of yelling at Pink to get out of the garbage (she was always looking for food), we moved to Vancouver. This was probably the official start of the Dori, Pink and Dustin family. We all agreed to move. Well, at least I never heard Pink say she didn't want to.

The transistion to Vancouver was easy for Pink, though the move was not. She never left her litter box in the three days we drove across the western US. We even rented a hotel room so she could have a quiet night of sleep. Vancouver seemed to be good for Pink, as 4th avenue kept her busy in the window during the day and she loved the smell of the Vancouver spring.

After we moved from 4th avenue, we bought her a computerized feeder. This had a special timer with 8 programmable feeding times. A little research on the net revealed that cats should eat more often then not, so we calibrated the timing such that she would get a half a cup of cat food in a 24 hour period. Thus began the second war between Pink and Food Dispenser Version 2.

Food Dispenser Version 2 was much more clever. It could not be pried open an hour before it was scheduled to feed. No, Food Dispenser Version 2 was state-of-the-art. It had an auger that would run for 8 seconds, long enough to dispense just the right amount. Every three hours it would come on for 8 seconds, turn and dispense. The sound of the motor coming on was like a race gun. Pink would leap from deep sleep and slide across the floor to be there in time for the meal.

Not content to wait for her next meal, Pink would begin "digging" at the mouth of Food Dispenser Version 2 for just a little bit more. She usually won. But Food Dispenser Version 2 was smart. This meant the next time the motor came on no food would come out. She had eaten the next meal already. Food Dispenser Version 2 didn't care, it kept Pink in check. She ate her half a cup of food a day, and that was that.

I don't know if it was Pink repenting, or just old age making her soft, but she got nicer. She began to greet company, allow the occasional touch and she didn't bite me nearly as often. She never resolved her diffferences with Food Dispeser Version 2, but she did come to appreciate her human companions.

When her hyperthyroidism finally advanced three weeks ago she began to get lethargic. Well, nervous lethargy. When she had the energy she would pace about the house, but after lodging herself into narrow spaces she would get exhausted and sleep. For some reason her reverse gear stopped working. She would walk behind something, often a space she wouldn't fit in and just keep pushing. She would not stop and back out. It made for a stressful few weeks. We knew she didn't have much time, but she would cycle from what appeared to be near death to a happy smiling cat. We considered the options, but she seemed grateful for the care and attention.

On Sunday at 8:30 AM I awoke to a wheezing Pink. She was having trouble breathing and I didn't know what to do. I tried to comfort her. I tried to help her breath easier, but something had changed. I don't know when it happened. I thought she had worked through the breathing trouble, but the last cough could have been the moment. I didn't actually think she had died. I moved her to the living room and tried to comfort her. Not getting much of a response I grabbed our stethoscope. I couldn't hear a heartbeat, but I thought maybe I had it in a bad spot, or it was very slow and quiet.

I finally realized she had died at 8:50 AM. She hadn't moved. She wasn't breathing. Her eyes were still open and full of life, but her life was gone. Dori was away, and throughout the day I kept checking on Pink, wondering. I closed her eyes and continued to check on her.

I made a coffin. Pink deserved it. I bought a shovel and dug a grave in our backyard. When Dori got home we hugged and sat with Pink. The next day we buried Pink with her favourite blanket and a picture of us.

I miss you Pink.