Good and Bad

The good news is, my kitty seems to be doing relatively better. That is, she's back to tear-assing through the house at 5 am when the birds and squirrels come out, and not-so-gently poking at me so I'll come see what the aforementioned critters are doing. Because at 5 am, I care that there's a bird out my window, really I do. And she's gained some of her weight back. Unfortunately, she's still drinking water like a fish and using her litterbox way too much, or lately the carpet in front of the litterbox. I'm still waiting to hear back from the vet about what our next steps are.

The shots themselves are pretty much exercises in kitty/owner combat in which practice does not make perfect...not by a long shot (no pun intended). For every move I make, she's mastered an effective countermove. It's like playing a full-contact game of football with a creature one twentieth your size. I've tried sneaking up on her while she's sleeping and quickly inserting the needle before she has time to realize what I'm doing. That method worked twice and hasn't since. I tried coaxing her with food and poking her while her defenses were down. This one is still useable, but only rarely. I tried scooping her up, cradling her gently, and then poking her; that one didn't even work once. She's much too bright to fall for the "here, Kitty, Kitty" method of anything. The one that seems to work the best so far (other than having someone else pin her while I poke her) is to sit on her. Yes, sit on her. Sound cruel? Well, she would agree with you.

We've been waging battle against one another twice a day for a month now. It's not fun and it's not comical (well, OK, sometimes it really is). I have difficulty inflicting pain on another creature, except seagulls. Oh yeah, and mosquitos. And even though I know it's for her own good, she doesn't realize that. There's a confusion and hurt in her eyes while I'm pinning her down that just breaks my heart. How do you explain to an animal that you're doing what needs to be done to save their life? The only thing more heart-wrenching is the hug I get from her afterward. She puts one paw on one side of my neck and the other on the other side and she buries her head just under my chin as if to say: "Mommy, please don't poke me anymore. I don't like it." And all I can do is pet her and tell her "I don't like it either." And I don't. When I envisioned my life with this cat, I never pictured this. In my mind, she'd live to be an ornery, old cat and die a peaceful death at the respectable age of 18, like my Jessie did or as it looks like my mom's Sophie (who's already 15) will. But that's not what's going to happen here.

All the while I'm doing this, I'm trying to figure out why I am. Is it because she deserves a longer life, or is it because I can't let her go? Is it fair of me to keep her alive? Am I being selfish? And then there's the flipside of the coin...the side of me that's the most difficult to face...do I really want to do this? Do I really want to invest most of my spending money into saving this cat? Do I really want to pin her down twice a day for the rest of her life? And how long will that be? Will her eventual death be peaceful now? Am I being selfish for considering the possibility of putting her down? Is that fair to her? They're all valid questions for which I have no answers. All I know is that I love her like she was my child. I can't imagine my world without her. So where does that leave me? Where I'm at right now, pumping hundreds of dollars into an animal to keep her alive and healthy. And in the meantime, I pray that I'm doing the right thing for her and for me.