A long time ago, about 14 years to get you into the ballpark, my Dad died of lung cancer. My sister, my brother and I urged my Mom to get a pet so she wouldn't be alone. Three weeks after my Dad's memorial service, Kitty moved into my Mom's house. Kitty came from the Humane Society, an adult female of unknown age. My Mom lavished her with treats, and she got very, very fat. When my Mom's health deteriorated and she moved into Greenfield, Kitty moved in with my nephew and his wife. They put Kitty on a diet and she lost weight, she also went blind and had problems locating the liter box. My brother asked for opinions and we all said we thought she should be put down. Instead he moved her into an empty bedroom in his house. He covered the floor with a large, blue tarp because she could only use the liter box if you picked her up and put her in it, and she lived there for two years. A few months ago he moved her down to his first floor where she had much more space to pee on the floor. He tried to get rid of Kitty... and no one wanted an old, blind cat that peed and pooed on the floor. Every one had the same response, put her down. He didn't.
On Saturday, he and his wife, and two of his children, with their spouses, left for vacation in North Carolina. Tuesday he sent me a text: the neighbor taking care of Kitty called to tell him the cat was doing poorly, would I go over and check her out. I did. I texted him back that yes, Kitty was in bad shape. And his response was "Can you take her to the Vet and have her put down." My response was the he needed to call the Vet and make the arrangements. He didn't like that. He was on vacation. He said I could call them and have them go to the house to put her down. Me? I texted him the Vet's phone number. He didn't care for that, either. So, I said that I thought we should, perhaps, let nature run it's course, and that I would stop over on Wednesday to check on the cat. I told them that if the cat had died, I would wrap it up in a plastic bag and put it in their freezer until they got home.
Holy Shit!! NO DEAD CATS IN THE FREEZER!! NO DEAD CATS IN THE FREEZER!! This was a group text and his wife pretty much exploded. All that bacteria! All of those germs!! NO DEAD CATS IN THE FREEZER!! They couldn't believe I would even consider such a thing, so I told them: My cat Max died when he was 21 years old. He died while I was at work. And it was January, the ground was frozen, so I wrapped him up in a towel, and put him in a garbage bag, which was wrapped up and tied securely, and put him in my freezer. He had a shelf to himself.
I said something to my friend Patty, and it turns out she did the same thing: put her dead pet in the freezer until she could get the body to the Vet.
As it turned out, the neighbor who was taking care of Kitty went over Wednesday morning and the poor thing had died. The neighbor's father took the cat out behind my brother's house and buried it. My brother, who didn't want to deal with the fact that Kitty needed to be put down, and left her suffer, in the end, didn't have to deal with her demise either. I sent him a text telling him he needed to bring something very, very nice back for his neighbor.