I would like yesterday to be crumpled up in a ball and tossed in the trash, please.

The day before yesterday, we noticed that the J-Man’s cat, Lucky, a skinny little thing whom he rescued from outside when he was six years old, was walking funny and would not eat any treats. My mom and I were immediately on high alert, because this is how Orson and Ollie were acting shortly before they died. I was worried, but to be honest I didn’t expect the worst, as she was only about eleven years old, according to our vet.

Yesterday morning my mother woke me at about eight AM with tears in her eyes, telling me to get dressed and come quick, because Lucky was lying listless on the basement floor.

I went into the basement family room to find her glassy-eyed and immobile, twitching the way I do when I’m about to have a seizure, and I knew that it wasn’t good. We covered her up with a towel and watched her, crooning to her in low voices and stroking her softly.

The J-Man woke up about ten minutes later, and I had to tell him that Lucky was very sick. He immediately started to sob and flew downstairs, and started to stroke her head.

While all this was going on, my mother was completely losing it. She’s doesn’t cope well with death, even death of the feline variety. I think that this made J. even more panicky.

We watched her for a while, hoping to God that she would hang on until we could get her to the vet, but by ten o’clock, she passed.

My son was inconsolable. I have never seen him so grief-stricken, and I hope I never see him that way again. He was sitting on the floor moaning, “Lucky, wake up, wake up!!”

It was horrible.

We gently placed her inside a large shoe box and put her in the garage so that we could take her to the vet today to be cremated.

J. was a complete mess all day yesterday. I wound up holding him on the sofa, trying to tell him that everything was going to be OK, trying to get his mind off of things and failing miserably.

There are times when being a pet owner really, really sucks.

I just wish to God I would have brought her to the vet on Saturday, even though there was probably very little that he could have done.

I made J. a special breakfast today and fixed his awesome new haircut up for him with some product, which seemed to brighten him up a little, but he still went to school with a heavy heart.

Sometimes there’s so very little you can do as a parent to lighten the load, and you feel so ineffective that it’s pathetic.

I didn’t get to see much of the Bears/Packers game, but what I did see led me to believe that the Packers had a truly admirable defense that absolutely crushed us, and that losing Jay Cutler was a hell of a blow. That last interception freaking broke my heart, but what can you do? I’s just glad we got as far as we did, and as much as it pains me to say it, I think the Packers deserve to go to the Super Bowl. I actually got the J-Man watching the game for a bit, and his opinion was that Jay Cutler is a big fat tittybaby. I can’t say that I agree, but damn, Jay, I wish you would have picked another day to crap out.

Sigh.

I’d so like to have a rewind button on life right now.

Anyway, that’s what’s up. Send all your good thoughts to my little man. He’s hurting pretty badly right now.

Happy Monday.

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