(no subject)

I found this entry from January 13 of 2005 while looking for something else.  I decided it was profound enough to repeat.

Growing Up...

I have noted in my years that some people are so busy acting like their PERCEPTION of what an adult is, that they forget who they are... not only that... but they don't know how to actually BE an adult... because their perception of what an adult is is so wrong.

Frodo Dodo

Well... I guess some of you know already that Frodo has been on the decline for a long time.  About three weeks ago he took a turn for the worse and after wrestling with myself over it for quite a while, made the decision to watch and wait.  I want to make it clear that this was not an easy decision to make. I talked to a number of people about the situation.  There were far more than just financial considerations in my choice. Frodo was 15 years old... The average life expectancy of a house cat is 9 to 15 years.  Now... cats CAN live much longer, however, Frodo had a lot of other things against him, not the least of which was the abuse he had as a kitten and the resulting anxiety... his digestive problems, and his reappearance after being missing for 3 months, among other things.

Humans make these decision themselves, including the decision not to treat an illness due to quality of life issues.  Frodo relied on me to make the difficult decisions for him.  I talked to him and did my best to get a feel from him what he wanted me to do.  Ultimately after weighing all this, I made the decision not to treat him.  If I had felt that care would have extended his life with any sort of quality of life, I would have found a way to pay for treatment.  If I had the sense from him that he was suffering, I would have found the money to take him for euthanasia.  However, he never indicated that he was in serious discomfort... just not well.  He talked to me, and purred whenever someone talked to him.  He continued to drink water when he was thirsty, and would eat a tiny bit of canned food once or twice a day up until Saturday when he would not eat at all.  He was alert and responsive right up until the last time he went to sleep.

Saturday afternoon, Frodo asked to go outside as I went out, so I let him.  He settled down in a bed of leaves at the corner of the house in the sun, where he sat with a look of great contentment on his face.  He was still there when I returned home.  He spoke to me, but stayed where he was.  The last thing I said to him was "Good Night Frodo". This morning about 10 am I came out and he had curled up under my car against the tire and had gone to sleep.  When I found him, he still looked like he was just sleeping.  This evening we buried him and set out tulips and seeded marigolds on his grave.  Good bye Frodo Dodo my sweetie kitty.