This rehearsal dinner last night was lovely and Kitty looked ravishing in a lilac ruched chiffon cocktail dress. I can't believe my little Kit Kat is getting married, it's becoming so real now. I haven't seen her wedding dress yet and since I've waited this long, I don't want to until she's wearing it. She is going to be such a vision tomorrow.
To look alive for last night's dinner, I treated myself to an American mani/pedi, a Long Island girl blow-out and pulled out my MAC makeup to cover up my red nose and sunken eyes. I wore a vintage Chanel black cap-sleeved sheath that I got in a vintage store on Fairfax in L.A many moons ago, threw on a pair of Givenchy Maryjanes, took down two shots of Dayquil and I was ready to go. For a girl who was on her deathbed a mere two days ago, I cleaned up pretty well.
We went through the run-through at the church, celebrated over Italian food at a trattoria on Jericho Turnpike and I ended up in cat emergency room at midnight. Never a dull moment.
As I was half way through my veal marsala and washing it down with a glass of chianti, my mother stormed into the restaurant coming from a Zurich trip to get the car keys because she received a phone call from my brother Andrew saying that our 17 year old family cat Colonel Forbin was vomiting blood all over the house. This isn't the first incident, this is one of many as he gets older and older. Back in September, after my birthday party, he had a diabetic seizure at 4 am where his tongue was sticking out, he couldn't breathe and his body was flipping all over the kitchen.
So now I am back from Paris and another episode is happening and I'm convinced that he wants to leave this world with the entire family here. We dropped him off at a third party 24 hour animal emergency room and when I had suggested to the doctor that we put him to sleep he looked at me like I was an animal killer, made a snippy comment of taking the easy way out and demanded that we hand over a credit card before discussing any further.
The cat is 17, his life consists of insulin shots and vet visits, he can't keep food down and water isn't hydrating him anymore. His quality of life is non-existent not to mention the cost of his medical visits on my mother's flight attendant salary is astronomical. He went to the vet last week and it cost $600 and last night's stay will be about $1000. I am not putting a price on a life but we don't know what to do. I don't want to lose our family cat but I don't want my mother to come home from her trip next week and find a dead cat in the house. He spent the night at the hospital and we're heading over to pick him up and bring him to his vet who we believe will give us an honest opinion and then pick up the rest of my stolen things from Katie. Today is not going to be fun.
Charlotte is looking at me with concern as I write this. It's funny how animals can have very human expressions sometimes. I'll keep you posted.
