It is a sad day at my house. As many of you know, I have been caring for Billy Cat, a gray tabby rescued by my brother-in-law many years ago. Billy Cat is old, has diabetes, has intestinal problems that have no cure, and has been steadily going downhill over the past few months. He has lost so much weight that he is not much more than a skeleton.
Billy Cat has not eaten well for a long while. Nothing we or the veterinarian have done seemed to improve his appetite. He got two measured meals a day of a special diet. It has been quite a while since he ate more than half of one of those meals, leaving 1 ½ meals uneaten almost every day. A few days ago, he stopped eating altogether. Yesterday, he had some sort of seizure. Although he got better, he was very weak and feeling poorly, as he probably has felt for many weeks.
My brother-in-law, owner of the cat, has been kept informed of his deteriorating condition. This morning, he and the veterinarian had a long discussion, the result of which was the decision to put Billy cat to sleep. He was dying. There was nothing to be done other than watch him suffer.
Although this was not my decision, I concur with it. A few years ago, I had a rescue cat I had named Cat Kitty who had the exact same problems: old age, diabetes, intestinal problems. That decision was mine to make and I found it very difficult, resulting in a lot of misery for a cat that I loved, just because I did not want to do the thing that needed to be done.
Billy Cat was a wonderful companion and I will miss him.
What do you do when a beloved pet gets sick and there is no solution? Your pet is going to die. He is suffering and you know it. You tried everything you could think of. You do not want this to happen. But the veterinarian, who understands these things better than you, believes that it is time to let your beloved pet go. And in your heart, your miserable heart, you know he is right.
How are you supposed to feel? It is not a human being, not a child, not a parent, not a loved one … except, in a very special way that is exactly what a pet is: a loved one. You have been through a lot, good times and bad. And through it all, your pet was there for you, beside you on the floor, perhaps on the bed, or even in your lap. It may not be as deep as a human connection, but the feelings that bind you to a grateful, loving pet are strong and lasting. They do not just go away when your pet breathes its last breath.
Many times, especially in the last few weeks, I have sat at my computer editing a photograph or writing a blog article, while Billy Cat lay in the floor right beside my chair or lay on the bed sleeping, just a few feet away. Although I knew he was in his last days, it was a comfort for me to look over there and see him fast asleep, perhaps a bit more comfortable on the fluffy white throw blanket he loved so much. And I am certain that my future days will include many times when I will glance over to my left, expecting to see him lying there on that fluffy white blanket.
I had a brief conversation with my brother-in-law about Billy Cat’s passing this morning. I told him to please advise his children to not offer one of their cats to me to care for. I know their kind souls. That is what they will be thinking: Uncle Doe needs another cat. And that may be true. But right now I do not want one. In the past few years, I have had two loving cats pass away for almost the exact same reason. I told my brother-in-law that if I ever got to the point of being able to afford the expense of having a cat, an unlikely event, I would want to get one that could outlive me, in other words, a kitten. I do not want to have to go through losing another beloved pet.
But I must say this in closing, I am not sorry for one moment of those experiences. Being the loner that I am, I have taken great comfort in the companionship of my pets. I will think back on those times with fondness, remembering each one of them and the sweet moments I spent with them over the years when I was blessed with their loyal and loving company.