Ziva, one of my black cats, passed away overnight last night. I found her this morning on the floor of the TV room. I knew it was coming. She was getting worse and worse as days passed. She was so thin. I kept buying canned food to encourage her to eat more. She'd eat dry food, but liked canned food much better. What cat doesn't? How old was she? I don't know. I've had so many cats and my memory is deteriorating so that keeping track is something I can't do mentally. A while back I created a list on my computer of all the cats I accepted responsibility for, including some strays and ferals. That list now has more dead and/or missing cats listed than live cats. A while back I got so sick of myself for what almost amounted to cat-hoarding that I vowed never to "adopt" another cat. And I haven't. Ziva was always a small cat and, in 2018 or 2019, gave birth to three sons, one of which was killed when he wandered into the neighbor's backyard full of dogs. I still have the other two.
|Ziva in 2016|
Although some would argue, I feel I've always been a responsible pet owner. I've taken all my pets to be spayed/neutered and vaccinated. I take the dogs in annually, but the cats not so much. I only take them to the vet when they're sick or injured. I feel bad about that, but I can't afford to take all the pets in for an annual exam, etc. (Which is another reason I'm not taking in any more cats.) My cats were indoor cats until a few years ago when I put in a doggie door so the dogs could go outside to poo whenever they needed too, and I wouldn't have to make a mad dash home at lunchtime to let them out. I still feel that cats should be indoor, only. That makes me a hypocrite, I know.
As I do with all of my pets, I'll take Ziva to be cremated and I'll keep her ashes. I hope to have all my pet cremains interred with me when it's my time. I'll find a place where that's allowed. I think it's allowed in most places now, but I want to be interred in a veterans cemetery.
Not much else going on. I'm just trying to avoid the horrible heat that is Texas in the summer. And procrastinating the thing that I keep telling myself I actually want to do. And I suppose, way back in the corners of my mind I do want to do them (exercise, clean, etc.).
I started an Etsy shop because I realized there were things I could sell that I could create on my computer and offer for downloading. Things like printable stationery, some forms, and even a little artwork. Visit me and buy something (so I can pay for Ziva's cremation). I'm here: Suze Stationery. I plan to add more stuff, but again I procrastinate. If there's something you might want that I could create, let me know.
My shower floor is falling down. I have no better way to describe it. The last time I showered I notice the floor was detaching from the wall on one side. So I've stopped showering and called my insurance company. If they don't pay to fix it I'm going to have to take baths from now on. They've assigned me a case number which, I think, means they're going to pay for it.
UPDATE: June 23, 20222
My insurance will not pay for my damaged shower. They didn't even send out an inspector to see what the problem was. They told me it was mold and and old leak, but there's no fucking way they could know that. I'm going to contact someone more important than my agent and complain forcefully.
The good news, maybe, is that I checked the paperwork for my home appliance insurance and it does say something in there about covering indoor plumbing and damage. So I've submitted a claim but haven't heard from them. I'm going to wait a few days and resubmit.