Sometimes life throws us a curve ball. Something we didn’t expect. Right now, I should be in New Orleans. Right now I should be on a walking tour of St. Louis Cemetery 1. Right now, the weather should be warm. Right now, I am not in New Orleans, I am not on a walking tour and it is not warm. Right now, I am in Colorado, sitting at my desk and it’s snowing.
So, what happened? As my boyfriend and I excitedly prepared for our early fight on Tuesday morning. We noticed that one of our cats was unable to move his hind legs. We sat with the cat, goggled not walking. Tried to find an emergency vet. When the cat started walking again. Not well, but he was using his hind legs. Improvement.
Okay, now what do we do? We poured over our options. Debated them. Called our moms. Moms always have fabulous wisdom. My mom, has been a cat lady her whole life, she would know. Nope, both mom’s were at a lose. Neither was sure what to do. And my mom, the cat lady, had never seen a cat who couldn’t use his back legs. Well then it’s decided. We have to take the cat to the vet. No flight tomorrow.
The vet was a roller coaster of a day. The cat will be okay. The cat won’t be okay. The cat is dying but he has time. The cat has no time. We were on an emotional roller coaster. In the afternoon when we returned for the cat. The vet still had some concerns. We still had some concerns, like why was he still breathing funny? I have the utmost appreciation, gratitude and respect for our vet. I asked him what we should do. He paused. He hated this part of the job. He rarely suggested this because usually there was hope, usually there was treatment, usually there was something that could be done. No, not in our cat’s case. Our cat was slowly dying. The question was now, do we let him die naturally or put him out of his misery?
I called my daughter from the parking lot. “Cat. Vet. Down.” Were the only three words I could manage to say to her. This had been her cat (I’ll get into that in Part 2).
The three of us sat in a patient room in the vet’s office and held our cat in his last moments. Tears flowing and even a bit of laughter.
Tough calls suck. They tear at you. Twist and pull you. Tough calls remind us of everything we have to be grateful for. They remind us of our blessings. They bring families and friends closer. Remind us of humanity. Our morals and values. They remind us of who we are at the core. In the end, tough calls strengthen and soften us.
Thank you for reading. Stay tune for tomorrow’s The Power of Church (a cat tale), and Therapy Therapy’s The Power of Pets.