I tried to be as tactful as possible, explaining Tiny's problem and what we could expect, which was a slow, lingering death. I braced myself for his response. But the big fellow only looked at me with eyes that I could barely see through the hair on his face and said sadly, "I guess we gotta do him, huh, Doc?" I agreed that, yes, the best way to help Tiny was to give him the injection that would end his poor, pain-filled life. So with his owner holding Tiny, we ended the little kitten's pain.
When it was over, I was surprised to see this macho guy the size of an oak tree just standing there holding Tiny, with tears running down his beard. He never apologized for crying, but he managed a choked "Thanks, Doc," as he carried his little friend's body home to bury him. Although ending a patient's life is never pleasant, my staff and I all agreed that we were glad we could stop the sick kitten's pain. Weeks passed, and the incident faded.
Then one day the oak-sized biker appeared in the clinic again. It looked ominously like we were about to repeat the earlier scenario. The huge man was wearing the same clothes and carrying another kitten in his pie-plate hand. But I was enormously relieved upon examining "Tiny Two" to find that he was absolutely, perfectly, wonderfully normal and healthy. I started Tiny Two's vaccinations, tested him for worms and discussed his care, diet and future needs with his deceptively tough-looking owner. By now, it was obvious that Mr. Oak Tree had a heart that matched his size.
I wonder now how many other Hell's Angel types are really closet marshmallows. In fact, whenever I see a pack of scary-looking bikers roaring past me on the road, I crane my neck to see if I can catch a glimpse of some tiny little kitten poking its head up out of a sleek chrome sidecar... or maybe even peeking out from inside the front of a black leather jacket.
On a night quite unenchantingWhen the rain was downward slantingI awakened to the rantingOf the man I catch mice for.Tipsy and a bit unshavenPoe was talking to a RavenPerched above the chamber door."Raven's very tasty," thought I, as I tiptoed o'er the floor,"There is nothing I like more."Soft upon the rug I treaded,Calm and carefully I headedTowards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.While the Bard and birdie chatteredI made sure that nothing clattered,Creaked or snapped, or fell, or shatteredAs I crossed the corridor,For his house is crammed with trinkets, curious and weird decor,Bric-a-brac and junk galore.Still the Raven never fluttered,Standing stock still as he utteredIn a voice that shrieked and sputteredHis two cents worth: "Nevermore."While this dirge the birdbrain kept upOh, so silently I crept upThen I crouched and quickly leapt up,Pouncing on the feathered bore.Soon he was a heap of plumage, plus a little blood and gore --Only this and nothing more."Ah!" my pickled poet cried out,"Pussycat, it's time I dried out!Never sat I in my hideoutTalking to a bird before!How I've wallowed in self-pityWhile my gallant, noble kittyPut an end to that damned ditty!"Then I heard him start to snore.Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I abhor,Jumped -- and smashed it on the floor.
When Will I know?
There once was a well-loved kitty named Chani who was married to a handsome strapping tabby, named Data. Their lives were good, they had food, warmth, a dry place to live, and a few toys, which included a pet Human. Time passed. They had a family which grew up and went their separate ways (never called, never wrote, never sent photos of the grandkids!), had careers, and grew older. Always, their pet Human was in attendance.One day, Chani did not look well and her Human became concerned. She was driven to THE VET and told she had cancer and was probably going to die. She decided, rather than go through the horror of Chemo (even though it's not as horrible for cats as it is for humans) she would live out her days in peace, with her loved ones beside her. She lasted three months, ate things she would never allow herself to eat, just for the enjoyment of it, and snuggled with her husband and pet as much as she could.The dreadful day came and she knew it was time. She also knew her pet Human would not understand, so she said her farewells to her husband and went to wake up the pet. She cuddled one last time, as the Human asked, "Is it time, now?" She reached up and caressed the Human's face once more with her paw, squinted, and purred, "Yes, it's time, now, but I will always be with you and I will always love you, my pet." Then, she closed her eyes (something cats rarely do, at this stage) and purred until her last breath, secure in the knowledge that her Human was holding her and loved her, too.A few months later, Data was faced with the same problem. When the Pet Human took him to THE VET, he looked deeply into her eyes and said, "Let me be with Chani. You'll always have us both, looking after you, so don't be afraid. You will be sad and will miss us, but we'll send others to care for you while we're away, and we'll all meet again, later".The pet Human was very sad, but knew in her heart that both had said when they wanted to go, and both had known she loved them, as she knew they had loved her.
5) Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and cat from top of wardrobe. Call spouse from garden.
7) Retrieve cat from curtain rail, get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set to one side for gluing later.
8) Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.
9) Check label to make sure pill not harmful to humans, drink 1 beer to take taste away. Apply Band-Aid to spouse's forearm.
10) Retrieve cat from neighbor's shed. Get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard and close door on neck to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with elastic band.
11) Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of scotch. Pour shot, drink. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for date of last tetanus jab. Apply whiskey compress to cheek to disinfect. Toss back another shot. Throw Tee-shirt away and fetch new one from bedroom.
12) Ring fire brigade to retrieve the friggin' cat from tree across the road. Apologize to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from foil-wrap.
13) Tie the little bastard's front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining room table, find heavy duty pruning gloves from shed. Push pill into mouth followed by large piece of fillet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and pour 2 pints of water down throat to wash pill down.
14) Consume remainder of Scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the emergency room, sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and removes pill remnants from right eye. Call furniture shop on way home to order new table.
15) Arrange for SPCA to collect mutant cat from hell and ring local pet shop to see if they have any hamsters.
This story was sent in by one of our gracious readers:
On August 12, 1997, I was sitting
outside on my patio as I am wont to do, since my boyfriend is allergic
to cigarette smoke and has asthma. On this particular day, I
noticed a red and white tabby on the hillside. I thought it was
the same female tabby I always saw running around, which when I called
her name she completely ignored me, as was her nature. However,
trying to irritate miss stuck up, I called out "Here kitty,
kitty!", and, to my surprise, the cat ran down the hill and
immediately jumped on my lap! However, while it was sitting on my
lap, I noticed that this definitely was not the female red and white
tabby. This cat was male, and was so thin and emaciated, that I
wondered at how it could be alive. We weighed the cat, and it was
only 1.5 lbs! The poor thing! You could see every bone in
its body, it was losing its fur down the back of its legs and tail, it
couldn't control its bladder, and you could stick your finger down to
the second knuckle between its shoulder blades. It also had worms
and ear mites and was so close to death, that we decided to feed it what
we thought would be its last meal.
My boyfriend immediately went into the house and brought out a can of
tuna, a piece of cheese, and a bowl of milk. The poor kitty ate
every bite of it! We found a box, that when turned upside down,
looked like a Snoopy dog house, complete with the rounded cut out in
front. We placed a towel down on the ground, and the cat
immediately climbed inside, curled up, and went to sleep. We
didn't ever think we'd see it again.
However, the next day, and the days to follow, the cat came back, so we
named him Rusty. He had an irritated rectum (red and bleeding),
and his private parts had swollen up immensely. His gums were
bleeding and he was in danger of losing his teeth! We took him to
the vet, had his shots given to him, his ear mites and worms treated,
had him neutered, he had gum sugary, and had a thorn removed from his
paw. All we could do now was wait and see if he would live.
As he showed improvement, my boyfriend bought him an igloo dog house,
some red carpeting, cat doors for the doghouse, a heater, and a kitty
tuna can sleeper. We couldn't keep him inside because of Matt's
asthma and allergies. We eventually learned of a treatment called
AllerpetC which would reduce the dander on Rusty, and applied it so Matt
could play with Rusty.
Over the course of the last four years, Rusty has completely wormed his
way into our hearts, and even Matt has allowed him to become a complete
house pet. We brush his teeth, clean his ears, clip his claws,
slicker and allerpet him, then re-slicker him once a week, and he gets
his annual vet visits and shots. He is now a healthy and sassy 14
lbs and 8.5 ozs, and naturally thinks he is the King of the house.
The vet told us he was about 2 years old when we initially found
him, so he is now six. He was also
in a house fire (our house caught
fire October 7, 2000), but the firemen rescued him. We don't know
HOW many lives the poor guy has lost.
To repay our kindness, Rusty would bring us mice, birds, snakes, and
dinner rolls from the neighbors garbage can, apparently what he had been
surviving on. We eventually broke him of the habit, kept him fed,
and he is now the most loving creature you ever saw. Given that he
was originally so affectionate, we are incensed that some inconsiderate
idiot would put out such a loving and devoted pet. But their loss
is our gain! We love Rusty, and he is our "son". I
wish others would take care of their pets. Rather than throw them
out to fend for themselves, they should give them to pet shelters.
There are always people out there with hearts big enough to care
for an unwanted pet. But, how could anyone not want a cat? They
are so loveable! I will never understand the workings of some
humans' minds.
Sincerely,
Ann Isbell, CPS
Executive Secretary, retired
Mount Prospect, IL
