An Idea

Perhaps if I simply belly-kiss her enough, the sheer power of love alone will cure her.

Being a Catmom

Fancy has been sick for a week now. This all started 13 months ago and has been on and off ever since. This time is different. Usually she’s vomiting but otherwise okay. This time, she’s not eating, drinking, pooping, grooming or stretching. She’s not fighting me when I try to give her medicine. Terms like “renal failure,” “pancreatitis,” and “liver disease” float around in my brain.

As the vet examines her, as I ask my parents for their advice, as I comfort her when she’s in pain, I hear what nobody has had the courage to say yet, too. That, if she doesn’t get better this time, it may be time to make the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. I cry just thinking about it. In the meantime, I pray, and I do all the research I can do.

And I wake up at night when she wakes up, and I hold her when she’s sick and I clean her when it’s over and I keep her favorite napping corner clean and supplied with the fluffiest blanket. I give her the prednisone every other day, the Periactin when she hasn’t eaten in over 24 hours, a syringe of water every two hours to keep her hydrated, the Cat Lax to help her digestive system.

She never leaves my side when I’m sick or hurting. She’s been with me for well over half my life. I literally don’t remember a time, don’t have a memory of which she’s not a part. If it comes time to make this decision, I don’t think I can do it.

God, please help her.