Today, we say good-bye to our cat Pirtuk.
Oh, no. Don't worry. He's fine. Healthy as a horse. Fat and sassy.
And still pooping and peeing on the basement carpet despite three litter boxes and a prescription of kitty Prozac. And we can no longer deal with it because the behavior has escalated to the point that our basement, no matter how much it is cleaned, stinks. And we don't want the main floor to become a minefield where our children can't play.
And so today, I'm driving Pirtuk 25 miles to Hiram, Georgia, to a local purebred cat rescue organization. And I'm dropping him off so that hopefully, he can find a better home, a home without toddlers who are constantly terrorizing him. And I'm most likely, at this moment, crying and making a blubbering idiot of myself over a cat.
We still have Andy, sweet steadfast Andy who is a senior citizen but has stuck by us for 11 years with no fuss. But I know the kids will ask about "Tucker" - where is he, what happened, why did you take him away? And what do I say? Well, Pirtuk was pooping and peeing on the floor, so we gave him away to another family. And this is a warning! If you starting pooping and peeing on the floor, I'm dropping you and a bag of food off at DFACS! I just don't know how to explain it to them without sounding like a failure. A horrible failure.
I'm just crushed. Pardon me if I use up a box of Kleenex because I truly feel like the worst cat-mom in the world.