Taffy was lying down outside the sliding glass door to my parents’ family room, so my mother let her cat in. This cat is in bad shape. Despite the furry winter coat, you can see the outline of bones in the sunken profile. The cat attempted to jump up on the couch, but can no longer make the leap successfully. Claws scrabbling momentarily on the edge of the seat, the cat slides back down to the carpet. Mom picks up the cat and lays it across her lap, where we were looking through old photo albums. The cat promptly pees all over her.
Mom lets the cat out before taking a shower and changing her clothes.
My mother’s cat, now 18 years old, is on its ninth life. Although she has taken her pet in to the vet in Fresno on a couple of occasions, she won’t spend the money now that Taffy is preparing to fly up to that big furball in the sky. Indeed, her raspy, labored breathing reminds me of what used to be known as the rales or death-rattle. I bet Taffy has pneumonia.
My sister in Texas had two black and white cats, Cookie and Oreo, and both of them died recently. My niece, who is an adult, took it hard. My sister stayed home from work to comfort her.
Many people who I meet, both online and in person, are surprised that a child-free couple like us has no pets. Surely we bestow our love on a dog or a cat? A songbird? Not even a little goldfish in a bowl?
Nope, nope and nope. Throughout our marriage, we have been 100% pet-free. Part of this relates to the fact that my wife grew up with dogs and I grew up with cats, and neither of us particularly understand the other species. Not to mention the fact that we tend to live in tiny rentals where no pets are permitted.
The bottom line for me, however, is that the love bestowed upon us by our pets for years can never make up for the heartbreak of losing them. I realize that we are missing a lot, but every joy comes at a price. I see what is happening to my sister, my niece and my mom, and I know we have made the right decision all along.