On killing a cat at Christmastyme
“Don’t cry because it’s over, Smile because it happened.” -Dr. Seuss
The above quote does little to console me as I continue to consider euthanizing my cat on a daily basis. She has been in decline, with occasional good days, over the past two months. Last Spring my cat, Minnie went into foster care with an excellent organization called Blessed Bonds. While living with her 1st foster mom, she began to drop weight and throw up frequently. A vet diagnosed her with hyperthyroidism – very common for cats. Minnie was put onto a topical gel medicine that would be applied to her ears both morning and night. That seemed to help for a while. When I got her back in August, she seemed better and WAY thinner. I continued the medicine and hoped that she would be okay. About five weeks ago I took her to the vet because she was throwing up constantly. Her weight was down to six pounds from her normal eleven. She was listless and very dehydrated. The vet ran a whole bunch of tests and five hundred dollars later I was told she had “off the chart” thyroid levels, so clearly the medicine was not working. He added that she might have thyroid cancer. Her thyroid gland was very large and that would explain the resistance to treatment. Since Minnie might be anywhere from 15-20 years old, I am not going to shell out two grand that I don’t have for the only two procedures that could save her: radiation therapy or surgery. So, I’m now just buying time trying to judge when the quality of her life has wasted to a point where/when I must put her to sleep. I keep hoping that she will be very clear in letting me know for sure that that time has in fact come. She will act like she is at death’s doorstep in one moment and then be a cute, cuddly kitten in the next. She still eats, but she also still has a lot of messy accidents too. I’ve gone through so much paper towel in the past month I wish I had gone to Sam’s Club to buy in bulk. I can tell that her “sick cat smell” is starting to take over the house. Yet, I still can’t pull the trigger – so to speak.
My youngest sister has also moved in with me (following a break up). She has been very vocal in asking me to consider putting Minnie to sleep. I’ve had to put up pet gates in order to keep Minnie from going upstairs since I had that deep cleaned so as to “de-cat” that living space. Minnie is allowed to roam the 1st floor while someone is home to watch her. Otherwise she is confined to the kitchen where her messes are better handled. My sister hopes that I’ll let her reclaim her cat, Max from her ex following Minnie’s death. I don’t have a problem with Max coming to live here. I just can’t wrap my mind around putting Minnie down when she still seems okay – at times. Most people I’ve talked to who have had similar situations said that cats are great at acting okay even when they are not. I guess I’m still holding out for that Christmas Miracle.
So, once again, as it seems usually happens now that I’m an adult, Christmas takes on a melancholy tone. There is nothing monumental that needs to happen for this to begin. I find that my energy and motivation drains. Call is SAD or some other medically based dysfunction, but there is no denying that winter kicks my ass. Why do I still live here? I’m single, I’m resourceful, and I now have decent health on my side…so why am I still here?? Now that I will not have a cat to consider packing, why shouldn’t I just pack up and go be a teacher anywhere else? Clearly, moving southwest is a trend as Illinois has just lost a Congressional seat due to the exodus from this arctic tundra.
I’ve tried this before. Alaska. Florida. California. Could I do it now? Could I even leave the US? Man, I think that I could. I should before I blink and am fifty and still living with regret. I would miss the kids from school. I would miss my family and friends. But I could gain new experiences and friends. I’m a writer…I could write about it. God, could I actually pull myself together enough to do it?
When I’ve gotten to the threshold in the past my home-sickness would always win out. I think about my Dad being sad and alone. I feel like the world’s worst aunt because I’d be missing out on watching Emmie and my soon-to-be new niece or nephew grow up. I would miss the pretty places that are an extension of me: the arboretum, that old German church, the bike trails. I will miss my Jeep. I know that last one seems really superficial, but Gomer has been a part of my life for a long time and I can’t imagine anyone else owning her. Mostly, fear holds me here. Fear of total failure. This same fear has challenged and beat me down in the past too. Damn it if I continue to succumb to my own negative projections!
I’m going to be 37 this coming April. I’ll be 37 and still single and still chasing dreams that only escape me when my fear wins out. C’mon! Grow up! I know that I continue to struggle with actually accepting my age. I feel like I should be someone else at this point. I’m not. I’m me and part of me is comprised of my mistakes and my no-turning-back choices. God, regret seems so connected to Christmas too! Christmas reminds me of the fun from childhood. I guess, in reflecting on childhood memories, it is inevitable that I would then spiral into considering my life as it developed to now.
Nonetheless, I must get going with my day. I must continue to wonder when I will put little Minnie into her cage for her last car ride. I don’t think it will be today, I’m still not ready and she is still too cuddly that I can’t stand it. My friends don’t get it. They think I’m way too attached – and I probably am. The last time I was without my pet, when I had my house on the market, I sunk into a pretty bad depression. I know that having a pet to come home to is an important part of my continued combat against depression.
On a note related to my last post, I think that my transference is now in check. I really don’t have romantic feelings toward anyone right now. I’m Switzerland. Neutral as ever. Maybe if I can achieve my own personal weight loss goal I can feel confident enough to get out a flirt a little – provided I meet someone worthy of flirting with. Which reminds me that there was a guy at the gym who looked creepishly just like Brian used to. It was like seeing a ghost.
Enough for now. Time to get into my life for today.
