I’m sorry. Is it wrong to feel that way?
I may have mentioned before that I’m not exactly a cat person. The cats were obtained in the throws of my first really serious relationship, at age 22, with no thought to the future.
Somehow, when the ship sailed on the relationship, the cats were on the boat with me! But it was fine. I never had the tightest of bonds with them, but they were pleasant enough to have around and were always pretty low maintenance.
When I brought the dog home, I was so nervous that the cats would have aneurysms or, at the very least, never speak to me again. I was close on the aneurysms, at least with Sierra, but they eventually got over it. Actually, Sierra started to sort of worship the dog, with a twinkle of “she might eat me” in her eye.
We found a balance that worked and everyone seemed pretty content. Until Sierra died last year.
Now Nevada’s a jerk.
In her defense, I’m sure it has a lot to do with the time I spend at the Red Baron’s house, leaving her alone. It was never an issue when Sierra was there, but since I take the dog with me, there are times when Nevada is completely alone for several days at a time…for the first time in her life.
But even when I’m close to home for weeks in a row, she’s still a jerk! She screams at me and when I pet her, she gets so worked up that she bites me. She chases the dog around and screams at her, occasionally following it up with several slaps to the dog’s face.
And the dog is TERRIFIED. She’s now stopped eating; nothing yesterday and she wouldn’t even look at the canned food this morning. That’s like me walking away from a bowl full of chocolate mousse. Even in my most weakened condition, I can’t ignore the mousse.
I know this sounds crazy, but I think she’s a toxic force in my home. So what do I do? She’s 15 and I’m not so secretly hoping that she succumbs to old age in the not so distant future.
I can’t see sending her to a no-kill shelter with dozens of other cats…that would just make her more miserable. But it breaks my heart to think of putting her to sleep because she’s grumpy. Then I’m the jerk.
The only option I can think of is to find a good home for her, but people aren’t exactly going out of their way to track down old lady cats. Unless they already have 34 other cats, which brings us back to Nevada being more miserable.
Help. Help. Help.