Yesterday, I lost someone very precious to me. I'm not talking about a child, partner or in the usual sense family member, but my beloved older cat, Phantom.
She was only just 14, and had been in excellent health to all outward appearances until Saturday morning, when she started being unpleasantly sick. She did that three times and then was very listless all day, which I put down to eating something she shouldn't have in the garden. All day Sunday she was missing, which was unusual, eventually shipping up at about 7.30pm clearly very unwell and with her back legs collapsing underneath her. We took her to the emergency vet (cost - don't ask, but needless to say substantial enough to go on plastic!) who diagnosed neurological damage and recommended taking her to the usual vet in the morning for tests, and in the meantime gave her something to stop the sickness and make her feel better. Monday morning she was listless, not eating or drinking or performing bodily functions, couldn't stand properly and was trembling. The vet diagnosed brain damage due to toxins in the blood, or more likely a brain tumour which in cats is untreatable. We took the decision to put her to sleep.
I have now cried buckets over this little furry creature. She had been with me through all sorts of life changes - divorce, two weddings, three house moves, bereavements and more. She gave unconditional love and had the most endearing habits. I loved her to bits, and I am devastated that she is gone.
But it was the right thing. She was a very sick animal, what she had wrong with her probably couldn't be cured and her quality of life, if we had chosen to prolong it, would have been very poor. What made Phantom be Phantom was gone. So she died in peace and in dignity. The worst moment was leaving her in the vet's consulting room purring on the table, and seeing her look so trustingly at this kind man who was holding a syringe full of lethal injection. That was when I lost it.
It's very odd, isn't it, that we can exercise discretionary euthanasia on our animals with proper professional guidance but we cannot extend the same dignity to human beings. We have to suffer throughout the most appalling illnesses with no prospect of choosing when to end our lives if they become unbearable for whatever reason. The law in that respect is very much an ass, and needs to be changed.
Poor Phantom, 14 isn't really that old for a cat although I am told it is average. For quite some time I will see things or think of things which remind me of her and feel the tears start to well up. They may be furry with four legs, but our pets are part of our family and an integral part of who we are. They have their own little personalities and ways and we love them.
I will miss her very much.
Showing posts with label pets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pets. Show all posts
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Monday, 20 February 2012
Pets - why do we love them?
I have a very good friend who has just sadly lost a treasured family pet after nineteen years of love and affection. I haven't yet managed to have a chat with her, but I know she will be devastated.
This lovely little cat was a gentle creature which always, when I went there, cuddled up to me and gave me attention. Possibly she could sense I was a complete sucker for cats, I don't know, but she never failed to appear and say hello.
The bond we form with our animals is a very special thing. I have four cats and I will be inconsolable when I lose one of them for whatever reason. In the past, I had two other cats and lived near a busy road. Despite the fact that I was well aware of the risks and high likelihood of at least one of them getting run over and killed, I cried buckets when (both) of them did.
Why is it that us Brits have this anthropomorphic attitude towards animals? They don't have it in mainland Europe, by and large, where animals are only kept if they are useful for food or manual labour. There are a few pets, and then mostly in the cities, but not many. In some parts of Europe they see animals that they cannot eat or make to work - and that includes dogs and cats - as a pest, and put down poison.
I don't have a single female friend who doesn't go 'Ahhh' when confronted by a small kitten, a puppy, a baby rabbit, a field full of woolley lambs, a pony or a bunch of piglets. Most men try to maintain a masculine indifference, but even they usually melt eventually. The French, Germans, Greeks and Italians would reach for the recipe book, but we reach for Pets at Home's phone number.
And doesn't it cost us? You can't walk through the door of the vets without spending about fifty quid, and a large bag of Iams cat food costs £45 (admittedly that does last my four moggies about a month, but its just a load of crunchy biscuits, for goodness sake!). We buy them cradles and hammocks to go next to the radiator, toys to stop them getting bored which they promptly push under the sofa so you end up moving the whole room around to find the thing, and treats for being good. Mine get their own Christmas stocking. We must be complete idiots, and those lovely little faces sure know how to manipulate us!
I think that one of the reasons I have always loved my cats is that despite their independent natures, they give love unconditionally back. They don't care what you have done, the fact that you look like shit in the morning, that you have put on weight or just yelled at them for puking a hairball on the new carpet. They don't sulk or keep harking back to past disagreements or problems. They never have to have the last word. They just love you. Sometimes it's cupboard love, but most often they just love you for who you are and for looking after them. Instinctively, they know. And that appeals to something very deep in our psyche.
This lovely little cat was a gentle creature which always, when I went there, cuddled up to me and gave me attention. Possibly she could sense I was a complete sucker for cats, I don't know, but she never failed to appear and say hello.
The bond we form with our animals is a very special thing. I have four cats and I will be inconsolable when I lose one of them for whatever reason. In the past, I had two other cats and lived near a busy road. Despite the fact that I was well aware of the risks and high likelihood of at least one of them getting run over and killed, I cried buckets when (both) of them did.
Why is it that us Brits have this anthropomorphic attitude towards animals? They don't have it in mainland Europe, by and large, where animals are only kept if they are useful for food or manual labour. There are a few pets, and then mostly in the cities, but not many. In some parts of Europe they see animals that they cannot eat or make to work - and that includes dogs and cats - as a pest, and put down poison.
I don't have a single female friend who doesn't go 'Ahhh' when confronted by a small kitten, a puppy, a baby rabbit, a field full of woolley lambs, a pony or a bunch of piglets. Most men try to maintain a masculine indifference, but even they usually melt eventually. The French, Germans, Greeks and Italians would reach for the recipe book, but we reach for Pets at Home's phone number.
And doesn't it cost us? You can't walk through the door of the vets without spending about fifty quid, and a large bag of Iams cat food costs £45 (admittedly that does last my four moggies about a month, but its just a load of crunchy biscuits, for goodness sake!). We buy them cradles and hammocks to go next to the radiator, toys to stop them getting bored which they promptly push under the sofa so you end up moving the whole room around to find the thing, and treats for being good. Mine get their own Christmas stocking. We must be complete idiots, and those lovely little faces sure know how to manipulate us!
I think that one of the reasons I have always loved my cats is that despite their independent natures, they give love unconditionally back. They don't care what you have done, the fact that you look like shit in the morning, that you have put on weight or just yelled at them for puking a hairball on the new carpet. They don't sulk or keep harking back to past disagreements or problems. They never have to have the last word. They just love you. Sometimes it's cupboard love, but most often they just love you for who you are and for looking after them. Instinctively, they know. And that appeals to something very deep in our psyche.
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