WINKENBEIN

Dear Reader,

I still don’t know the purpose of this blog: reportage, diary, essay, lecture, current events? Not sure yet. For the moment, I’ll go with diary and a touch of reportage.

As I’ve noted in previous entries, I have three cats living with me in my little studio apartment. The three I have at the moment are all great cats; I have been extremely lucky in that, no matter the circumstances of acquisition, I have ended up with excellent cats. I don’t like to call them “pets,” because sometimes I think they own me as much as I own them. The difference, of course, is that when one of them gets sick, it’s my responsibility to make sure they get the best and proper care.

I have been through terrible years of aging, sick and dying cats. The ‘90’s for me were an awful decade; I had my old “crew” of three cats die between the years of 1993 and 1998. These were hard losses, each one. I had gotten all of these cats separately as very young kittens in 1980, and hand raised them all; each of them went through long, extended illnesses, and their deaths were each devastating to me.

My current crew of three cats only intersected in part with my old crew of three, including a solo intersector who was also a great cat, in her own way. The only one of my current cats who was in direct contact with any of my old crew is Winky, who is now very ill, and having surgery today. She is relatively young in cat years; only 11. However, the prognosis is not good; the vet has practically told me that she has a cancerous mass in her abdomen, which may not be operable. The surgery is to take a biopsy, and determine if the mass is operable. My vet is a great healer, but even he sounded morose when we spoke.

I delayed Winky’s surgery for a week because she was so weak on the original date that I simply felt she would not survive it. In the ensuing time, I have been making sure she is eating something, anything, contrary to doctor’s orders, and I have been administering sub-cutaneous fluids to keep her hydrated. The hydration has helped the eating, and in the week, she seems stronger and I think she will survive the surgery today.

Each of my cats has several names. Many of the alternate names come from songs I sing to them. Winky’s other names are: Winken; Winkenbein, (loosely translated from German: “beckoning/flirtatious leg”); Boob; Biggy Boob; Boogy; Boogyboo; Boogalyboob; Beautiful Boob. Many of these names are simply homophonic, I suppose, although Winky has a beautiful chest and ruff, and frequently looks as if she is wearing one of those Elizabethan collars. The “winken” name comes from a Brahms choral work, one of the “Zigeunerlieder:” “Schatzelein, du bist mein.” I substituted “Winkenbein” in the phrase.

I have been very distracted in the last few weeks, so have not mourned Winky yet. I am hoping that, now that I’m more focused, I won’t have to, but given my vet’s outlook, I’m not very hopeful. I may have plenty of time to mourn her as I care for her in her last few weeks; we’ll see. In the interim, I’ll compile a list of the things she does that I will miss, write down the story of her life (so far) and try to prepare myself for her not being with me. My other two cats know something is up, and interestingly, are being nicer to one another. Who says animals don’t have emotions??!!

Thanks for reading and I’ll keep you apprised,

Catbird