a heart is captive

a heart is captive

Wednesday, August 17, 2016

Nobody Gets Out Alive

We brought home an old, dilapidated cat 25 days ago. She had been sleeping on the stoop or the deck of our house that we are trying to renovate so we can move. One day she came in and checked out the house and slept in the tub for the time we were there. The next time we came we brought canned food. She ate well. One week we noticed (well how could we not notice) a huge tumor/lump on her right front side. On the way home I said we bring her home next time at least she will be warm and dry and loved since she is going to die. We brought a carrier the next time and she was quiet, for a cat, during the 3 hour drive home. We took her to the vet and the worst fear of cancer and nothing to be be done was realized. So she was home with us. She enjoyed the fact that every time she asked she was fed. She ate well. Growled at the others.
When the doctor was examining Smokey (she was a fluffy grey cat and should have weighed 10 to 12 pounds not the 9 she was) the doctor said Smokey had been horrible kicked/ beaten at some time in her past. She had no muscle tissue left on her right side....clearly from traumatic damage that only a fiend could inflict on a defenseless animal. She slept in the bathroom it was out of the way of others and she already enjoyed the tub at the other house. She took a few days before she ventured out and discovered the cat water fountain and the rest of the house. She would saunter out at meal time or when she wanted something and meow at me. I would get up and feed her. I would pat her and scratch her ears and chin and neck while she purred like a motor boat. She was sweet and gentle and took no crap from the gang of visigoths that passed for cats in the house. Yesterday she was extremely bloated. She had not wanted to eat, She would waddle out for water.
This morning it was decided we take her to the doctor and we were there right at opening. Yes she was dying. We usually let them die at home since many had a small zest for life until the end. But Smokey was uncomfortable and had pain. It is very hard to say euthanize. But I had to make the decision. My girl, our girl was made comfortable, she was purring and I was rubbing her chin and neck where she liked it best. With in seconds of the lethal but gentle combination she was gone. Just relaxed and no more. It was hard. I can't cry anymore it is all stored inside and I just numb down and my insides become nothing. Crying would be a release. When my time comes I want to be able to pass like Smokey. To have an injection to sleep deeply then another to stop the functions. Merciful, gentle, compassionate, and humane. Those who argue against that for people are the cruel fiends. They are the ones who would beat a cat nearly to death for what ever perverted pleasure they got. The go to church and sing. My Smokey has passed beyond the rim. She joins the many cats we have rescued, loved, and lost. My heart is numb. No tears yet but inside I mourn her life lost but know she was loved for the last days of her life.

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