Memory #4

I was 17 years old and my cat, Freeway had been acting strange. She had been urinating in weird places, drinking excessive amounts of water and appearing disoriented and confused at times. Granted, she was a good 14 years of age.But she had changed and was no longer the spunky kitty cat who greeted me every morning at 6am with a loud squall to wake me. One day while I was at school, my dad took her to the vet to have her checked out. When my dad picked me up from school, I knew something wasn't right. He had a look on his face that to this day I can't explain. I asked him what was wrong. He said you will need to call the vet when we get home so he can explain the options for Freeway. I knew something had to be very very wrong. I called the vet as soon as I got in the house. The vet explained that my beloved kitty had developed Diabetes and was very ill. He explained that she could potentially be treated every morning at his office with an injection of insulin, but he didn't feel that at her advanced age that was a fair choice. He noted her extreme anxiety anytime she was brought in for a visit and how long it took her to recover from a vet visit (we had told him from the get go when she was a kitty that it would take her days to recover emotionally). He felt that we would not be doing her any favors by increasing her anxiety and that she had lived a good , long, healthy life. He recommended we bring her in to have her pts. I told the vet I would talk with my dad. My dad already knew what we would do, but he had said from the very beginning that Freeway was my cat and he felt I needed to have a say so in her treatments and especially with a decision like this. We made the decision to have her PTS. I held her in my lap as we drove to the vets office. Once we got back to the exam room, the vet gave her a sedative to relax her before giving her the final injection. I watched my dad talk to her, kiss her head and tell her what a good girl she was. He thanked her for choosing us to be her family (she was a stray that followed us for several weeks). He then started to cry uncontrollably. This is one of 4 times I ever saw him shed a tear- (the first time was when another cat passed away the previous year). I tried to keep it together but it was hard. I had to drive home because he was in no shape to do so.
I just remember seeing how emotional he was about this and thought how he had such a big heart. Little kids and animals adored him. I think because he "got" them. He understood them on their terms in their world.