What My Cats Teach Me - Lesson #2 Hope

In the Spring of 2002, one of my colleagues sent out a company-wide email about a family of cats that had taken up residence underneath her front porch. There was a momma and a few kittens but she was worried about one of the babies because momma used to carry her around everywhere and she looked very small.

I had a conversation with this girl and for various reasons - none of which I can actually remember now - I decided I needed to get this kitten to my vet where she probably would be put down (humanely versus starving or being attacked). I picked her up one night after work and, oh my, she was the tiniest little thing I'd ever seen. When I got her home I put her in a roomy crate with food, water and a little litter box. Two days later we went to the vet where it was discovered she had suffered a crushing injury to her lower spine. Both my vet and I fell in love with her and he convinced me to bring her home with me and try to rehab her.

Right.

I didn't take long to name her. "Hope", as in "I Hope she learns to use the litter box". 'Twas not to be.

Over the next five years, I replaced my wall to wall carpet with Pergo and spent my time at home washing waterproof pads which were on every piece of furniture I owned; laundered her soiled bedding; and learned to express her bladder and wash her bum multiple times a day. Interestingly though, I loved every minute of it.

She was the most loving cat you can imagine. You know how cats can be demanding or aloof (or both)? Never my Hope. So, okay, what did she teach me? To acknowledge and appreciate when someone is kind to me. To show my appreciation effusively (don't worry, I won't lick your face unless you are Bruce Springsteen or a cast member of True Blood). To recognize how good it feels to improve the quality of another life, be it person or animal. To greet each person I meet with kindness.

The fact that she survived for five years is pretty incredible according to my vet. And she died just as he said she would from a urinary tract infection that just couldn't be controlled. I still miss that little girl and am crying as I write this.

What My Cats Teach Me - Lesson #1 Agnes

I am in awe of an animal's ability to quickly, and without drama, adjust to physical limits. Remember that cat who was abandoned when some people I know surrendered their townhouse to the bank and left the state? Well, it's almost two and a half years now and the old broad is still kicking and will turn 19 sometime in the Spring. She's always been on the skinny side and barfs quite frequently. She's also been owning the dogs and has both of them absolutely terrified of her (which is hilarious because each dog weighs at least 50 pounds and I don't think she tips the scale past five).

Anyway, when we took her in I knew she was a Senior cat and Hubby and I agreed that we would simply give her a safe, comfortable home and lifestyle in which to live but there would be no dollars available for a veterinarian. Other than the one visit when we first got her, if she developed any illness at all, we would simply take care of her until there was nothing left but to euthanize. Kitty hospice, as it were.

Over the past month or so it has become blatantly obvious she has lost most, if not all, vision. Luckily she has lived here long enough that she knows how to get from point A to point B without smacking her head on something (usually). While it is a little disturbing to watch, I do smile when I see her heading toward a stationary object only to skirt around it. She doesn't run anymore, rather never moves any faster than a mozey. She doesn't jump up as high as she used to, but she can easily get to the end of the sofa where she has a comfortable place to sleep (which she does pretty much all the time). She can use the litter box (99% of the time). She can find the food and water bowls, no problem. And since she can't really see the dogs anymore, she doesn't terrorize them like she used to.

I've also managed to hit on a feeding schedule for her which has significantly reduced both the frequency and volume of barfing (yay). I like to think that if she's not throwing up then she's actually getting some benefit from her meals, right?

Like my friend Mark says, "If she eats, poops and grooms, leave her be." And she does all of those things. Maybe not with the same gusto but shit, she's an old lady and none of us - human or animal - can move as well in old age as we could when we were younger!

Animals are a perfect example of doing what you can as well as you can. They don't act out because they can't do it as much or as fast. I strive to live with whatever MS throws at me in the same way as Agnes.