Comet, We Hardly Knew Ye

I don’t really think I’ve ever felt this guilty for something I’ve felt forced into doing. Comet is now at the Scott County Humane Society awaiting adoption, and I wish there was some kind of alternative.

Why is he there? A number of reasons, really. Since the day he started using the litter-box, he never quite got the hang of actually burying the evidence. And just a short month ago, I’ve found that he’s been pooping behind the water-heater and furnace, a very hard place to clean. The weirdest part is that he’d pee in the litter box, and walk behind the furnace to poop; easily the most unconventional waste-elimination method I’ve ever seen a cat adopt. And finally, while I was petting him and Luna on my bed last night, he just started peeing. He didn’t sit and crouch like cats normally would, he was just lying down like the Sphinx, and let loose. I didn’t realize the problem until he bolted from the bed without warning, and I got a small splash of something wet. The down-comforter is likely ruined, and unfortunately so is my last shred of patience.

Sadly though, I think I know why Comet’s having some of these problems. Since the day we brought him home from the Galesburg Humane Society, we’ve known he requires an inordinate amount of attention and affection. He follows me around like a dog, sits on or around me every second I’m home, and purrs almost constantly. He’d make someone the perfect lap-cat. But he always seems so sad. Luna hates him, and avoids him at every opportunity, even though he just wants to be friends. She’s usually outside, and I’m usually at work, leaving him in the house all alone. Sure I’m home after work, but I’m certain he needs more.

And now I’m getting ready to move up North, and that means I spend even less time at home, and that has brought his separation anxiety to a thunderhead. He probably wet my bed because he was afraid he’d lost my approval, which of course simply confirmed that fear. I put him outside, somewhere he’s never really been since Jen brought him here a year and a half ago. He just sat on the porch and cried all night, and in the morning, I found him sleeping in the corner of the deck. Even with his claws and large size, he’s nothing but a hopelessly trusting, possibly mildly retarded inside cat.

It’s obvious he needs another home that can give him the constant attention he craves, so I made a very difficult decision. He howled piteously all the way to the shelter, and I have little doubt his sad meows are constant even now. I’ve basically abandoned a poor helpless animal that was only truly guilty of loving me too much. Kitty just wanted some reassurance, and I gave him the boot.

All of this probably makes Luna’s day, but I really couldn’t feel worse. I’ll call the shelter next week to see if someone adopted him, after that, Comet is Schrodinger’s Cat.

Until Tomorrow