Griz isn't going to be here much longer

Within the last few days, Griz, my grandfather's cat, seems to have
taken a turn for the worse. He's got a sad meow like there's something
wrong. He's not been eating. Some days he would puke up some yellow
foamy crap, but then go about his day like he just got rid of a
hairball.

I think Griz is 16 years old. He's persnickety, something he picked up
from my grandfather. He's also stupid, like my grandfather. My mom
bought a covered cat pan which if you just roll it over has a way to
filter out the clumps and turds from the loose sand and then catch it in
a tray you just pull out and empty in the trash. Well, Griz doesn't get
that sort of idea, so he'd get in when the cover is on and instead of
turning around, he'd leave his ass end hanging out of the pan. Marmalade
understands turning around.

My grandfather got Griz on the recommendation of one lady he had coming
out to help him with stuff soon after my grandmother, his wife, was
placed in the nursing home due to Alzheimer's. I'm going to estimate
that around 1994, but Griz might be a bit older than that. 16 years old
for him though sounds about right, though he might be 17 or so.

Griz has lost a lot of weight and his meow doesn't sound very good. I
hope he doesn't go off to hide. I don't even have a box for him. I don't
know where to bury him. At least I did for him what my grandfather never
did for me. While growing up, I had to be upset several times as more
than one dog was whisked away to the dog pound for whatever reason by my
grandfather. First was Dixie, a beagle given to us by my aunt. Then it
was one of her puppies we decided to adopt. And then it was my dog in
the mid-80s when I went off to college.

I don't know why he did that to us. It wasn't until Ariel that we had a
dog from a puppy until she died. We had several cats pass away though.

So instead of putting Griz to sleep, I hung onto him. He outlived my
grandfather by nearly 6 and a half years. I likely won't miss him peeing
where he shouldn't, like in a couple spots in my room for whatever
reason if I don't block off my room. I have to make sure no other cat
takes up his habit. I can put down the area rugs he used to pee on after
he goes.

We couldn't keep Tink because she also had litterbox issues, even when
it was kept perfectly clean. The least little bit she didn't agree with
and she found something else to pee on, like a washcloth left on the
floor. Even though she kept mostly to herself after suffering brain
damage during her spaying, she wouldn't have been able to resist peeing
on the carpet around here since there's so much of it.

Griz looked fine a year ago, but I guess that's how cats are. I have a
lot to do tomorrow, and I hope I can still find him when I get back. I
don't want to find him lifeless somewhere like I did with my mom.