I've just returned from the veterinarians, where one of our cats, Abbey, was euthanized.
She was 12 years old, which put her in the senior cat category, but not especially long-lived for a housecat. She had been declining for a while. Yesterday she was diagnosed with lymphoma. We brought her home from the vets yesterday wondering how many more days she had.
When I woke up this morning (I'm always the first to rise in our home and therefore feeding the cats is my first significant act of every day), I was filled with dread because I couldn't find her, but then I found a note from one of the kids that she was sleeping under his bed. Normally, the cats are waiting impatiently by the food bowls every morning; if they wore wristwatches, they would tap them with their paws while giving me meaningful looks. But poor Abbey was almost too weak to locomote this morning. She sort of dragged herself by her front legs. Even holding up her head was too much for her, and my wife was discerning that her body was trembling. Cats are pretty expert at disguising their suffering, but it was clear she was in a bad way. When we took her in this afternoon for the final time, the vet told us we were doing the right thing by not waiting longer.
As cats go, she always was a bit of a runt: even when in peak health, I don't know if she ever reached nine pounds whenever the vet weighed her. Her entire life, from the time we got her from a rescue shelter as a kitten, was spent in our household with other cats who were larger. They would try to bully her according to the complex rules of cat social behavior, which are largely opaque to us humans/servants. But she more than held her own among the bigger cats through a sort of energetic assertiveness and inquisitiveness, not to mention perseverance. She would keep coming back, and eventually they'd give up and leave. Whenever I accidentally trod on one of the other cats (which is a monthly occurrence; it is always their own fault for being underfoot), when they would cry out in anguish, she would immediately attack them, as they were betraying a sign of weakness. She was kind of a strange cat in some ways: she never quite mastered the basic meow; it always came out as a sort of guttural throat-clearing.
Like all cats, she was a master at manipulating the big, slow, dumb, two-legged clods who have opposable thumbs and therefore can open cans of cat food and turn door knobs. She probably is the most affectionate (in a cat-transactional way) of the cats we've had over the years. On a winter evening when we were gathered in easy chairs around the TV, she would spend the evening moving from lap to lap, curling up first with one family member, then another.
My wife noticed a couple of weeks ago that she was getting skinnier. A trip to the vet revealed that she weighed less than five pounds. She also wasn't as likely to jump up on the kitchen table during meal times and engage in similarly typical cat misbehavior; the vet diagnosed that her feet and paws were arthritic. We came back with prescriptions of prednisone and a few other meds, which, like all cats, she did her best not to ingest. She seemed to rally for a few days, and then went into decline again.
This is the third cat we've had put to sleep. My wife doesn't have the heart to be present, so this is one of my chores. There were a lot of tears today when we put her into the carrier for the last time. I didn't actually bawl, but I admit my eyes misted up a couple of times.
I don't know exactly what spot pets occupy in a family, but they're not nothing. I've written critically here in the past of some of my family members' tendency to anthropomorphize and infantilize the cats. But in a way, it's human nature: we treat non-humans through the lens of our humanity. Goodness knows, the cats do the same to us in reverse. And most of us humans are wired to be parents, and when you own a cat, you are responsible for them. Caring for creatures, at least mammalian pets, leads pretty naturally to loving them.
I don't know what the ultimate destiny of pets is, but if it stretches beyond this earthly life, I'm pretty confident that she's as close to God as the next cat is. Like all cats, her list of sins was very long, but really, she wasn't much worse than any of the others.
Have had to take in many cats for euthanasia. Some got to me more than others. Because all of ours were rescued off he street, I know what their demise would have been without our intervention, and I take some satisfaction that they had a good death as these things go.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure Abbey was a lucky girl and made the most of her time with you.
Jean, thanks. Yes, I am sure you have given your cats a very good life. Cats in stable and secure domestic situations have it pretty cushy, something which they don't appreciate a single whit. Or, probably they do but can't let us know they know - that would be a violation of the Cat Code.
DeleteMany years ago, I wrote on the old C'weal blog about how Geoffrey pretty much helped us raise The Boy, taught him about respect, boundaries, commitment, and affection in ways that a couple of large, middle-aged, talky adults could not.
DeleteGeoff is nearly 20 now (The Boy is 25), on meds for hypertension. Has congestive heart failure, weak kidneys, does not see well. But he has accommodated himself to these infirmities without getting crabby or irritable. The other day he was thumping around under the bed. I feared he was having a heart attack. Turns out he had sniffed out a catnip toy and was batting it around. He also knows when I am eating corn chips, his favorite snack, and comes out of his coma to demand a bite. He is still delighted to crawl in a paper sack, sharpen his claws on the couch, sleep on the clean laundry, and take a nap with his other cat friends.
So now he is teaching me about growing old gracefully: Stop thinking about limitations. Don't let regrets make you bitter. Appreciate your friends. Remember that God made the world for you to live in and wants you to be happy.
I'd say he's given as good as he got without even trying!
My guess is that the way you treated Abbey helped your family better appreciate you--in the way you foot the bill for food and vet care, shared their concerns for her welfare, and showed them what responsible compassion for our fellow creatures looks like when the end comes.
Jean, your old kitty sounds like a sweetie.
DeleteI'm sorry, Jim. Been there and done that. It sucks.
ReplyDeleteYou gave Abbey a good life. Since you got her from a rescue shelter you may have saved her life.
Personality wise, she sounds a lot like the cat we lost awhile back. Our remaining cat is 16 years old, so I'm sure we're looking at a similar scenario at some point. I've made up my mind that when this cat goes we're done with pets. But my better half may have other ideas.
I have to think there are animals in heaven, since creation is to be perfected, not done away with. (Theologians may argue with me, but I'm sticking with my theory).
Katherine, I like your thought about creation being perfected. There is that scriptural image of the lion lying down with the lamb which seems to point to animals participating in the kingdom somehow.
DeleteI grew up without pets, because I have a sibling who was allergic to everything. But after I got married, my wife cajoled me into getting our first kitten, even before our oldest child was born (my wife is pretty good at manipulating me, too), so our kids don't know what it's like to live in our household without cats - almost always several cats. I don't think they could conceive of life without being surrounded by pets.
DeleteWe have had a total of three cats. Two of them were my husband's idea. I wasn't sure I wanted any more pets after the first cat died. He said, "We could go to the shelter and just look. We don't have to come home with anything." Long story short, we came home with two. One of the cats would always come and sit on his lap when he was reading his breviary. She always knew it was time for "vespurrs".
DeleteWe got our first cat when oldest son was 14. His best friend was trying to find homes for a litter of kittens. We somewhat reluctantly gave permission for our son to have one. He promised he would assume all responsibility for care and feeding. I knew at the time how that would end up. I was right. Anyway, the way he chose his kitten was to sit on the floor and wait to see which one came over to him (I'm just glad the whole bunch of them didn't!). He always said that Shadow chose him.
DeleteIt's so hard to lose a beloved pet. I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteWe had cats and a dog growing up. Eventually only a dog. We lived in So Cal and the animals lived outside the house. They had beds on the back porch. Once we moved to the mountains, where it got colder at night and had snow, the pets had dwindled to only the dog, and we begged our mother to let her sleep indoors at night. She was a sweet and wonderful dog. Only years later did I learn that I am allergic to cats, so we never had cats in our own home.
When our oldest was 11, we bought a golden retriever. They are known for their amazingly gentle temperaments and we felt that we needed a dog like that. All true - goldens are the sweetest dogs (shed like crazy though). He was our challenging child, beginning from when we brought him home from the NICU at age 10 days. According to the nurses there, he was extremely challenging even then. Before he left, he had torn out his IV from every place where they put it. Finally he had to endure 4 injections a day because they couldn't put meds into his IV solution. A child with this temperament from birth is a real challenge. (the neonatologist commented when we were picking him up to go home that he had seen 3 month old babies get that angry, but never before a newborn) He had a lot of social problems - but he was a top student and the teachers loved him, even if the kids didn't. Middle school is a bad age for almost all kids, and he was angry and miserable,taking it out on us at home. The teachers always told me they wished they had 24 more like him in class. So we got him a dog. Sometimes I think she saved his life. Before she was totally housebroken, I would keep her in the laundry room at night. In the morning, I would go into get her to take her outside, and often found my son asleep on the floor with her, arms around her. She was literally his best friend for many years, and got him through some very tough times. We had to put her to sleep when she was 14. My son had let her out into the front yard because going down the three steps to the side yard was too hard for her, because of arthritis. She had gone deaf, and didn't hear the car start before backing up in pouring rain. She was in the driveway, right behind the car, at that moment. The driver didn't see her while dashing to his car in order not to get soaked. The driver was my husband, and he has felt guilty sorrow ever since. She broke something and her two hind legs wouldn't work, although she did not have pain. A member of my CP group was a vet, a very kind and gentle man. We bundled her up and headed for his office. He told us to leave her there for tests and observation. My son headed to NJ for an event he had planned for, assuming she would be OK. She wasn't - she would never walk again. We brought her home so that our son could get home to say goodbye. He put a soft pad on the floor of his room, and then a blanket, and he again slept next to her, holding her all night, just as he used to do when he was 11. She always slept in his room until he went to college. Then she moved to a younger brother's room until he came home for vacations. The day after the accident my vet friend came to our house, and after we gave her a final meal of ice cream in a bowl, he put her to sleep. She was outside,lying under her favorite shade tree, at peace, with all of the family (and a couple of girlfriends) with her. She wasn't afraid. She had always shivered with fear whenever she had to go into a vet office. It was peaceful, but I still cry when I think about it, even though it was more than 15 years ago.
By then all of our boys were grown. So we have never gotten another dog. We already were traveling a lot, and another dog wouldn't have been practical. I wasn't sure I could go through another pet loss either. I was heartbroken when my childhood dog died - put to sleep after being hit by a car when we were walking at night. Two beloved dogs lost to cars are enough for me.
Anne, that's why I don't want any more pets. They break your heart. But so good the dog was there for your son through difficult times. Goldens are such good natured dogs.
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