What do you do when the right thing to do is the thing that you can’t bring yourself to do because it tears you apart. My sweet cat, Oscar, has been sick for over a week. He had crystals that formed in his urethra, and caused his urine to back up into his kidneys. Not only did this release toxins into his body, but it caused his bladder to swell tremendously. The vet, though she worked diligently to save him, counted him good as dead. Much to her surprise, the toxins left his body, all traces of blood are gone from his urine, and he’s eating and drinking as normal.
I went to visit him yesterday, and they let me have the examination room to just spend some time with him. He curled up on one of the arm chairs, his head nestled in my hand. His liquid green eyes stared up at me as always, full of love and expectation…the expectation of my love. To know Oscar is to love Oscar. I always tell him he has kitty mojo, but it is really just his incredibly sweet personality. He is a gentleman among cats. As I sat there bathing him in love and encouragement, I couldn’t wait to pack him into his traveler and bring him home.
Then the vet came in. He’d made it through the toughest part, I thought. Now it was just recovery time. But he can’t pee on his own. The muscles in his bladder are so weak from being enlarged that she has to help him pee. I knew it would take some time to recover from this, but then she told me, “I have one more medicine that I’m going to try…but after that, there’s nothing I can do for him.”
Tears blurred my vision, and my heart broke. He just sat there, looking and me with that same sweet look. I spent the rest of the day, praying, begging, and pleading with God. I tried to keep myself occupied, but the second I stopped, I couldn’t help but think of him. I woke up in the middle of the night, his sweet face in my mind. We’ve come so far, and he’s fought so hard; to lose now would be a cruel twist. And if it comes to it, how will I be able to give the go ahead to snuff out that sweet light in his eyes. The what-ifs would haunt me…who am I to say that a couple more hours, a couple more days wouldn’t make a difference.
Logic and reason are there battling it out, too. I understand his quality of life would be diminished, that there is a time when letting go is more humane than holding on. I understand that it would be the right thing to do. But as I said earlier, the right thing to do just feels so wrong.