I will overcome this. This post is not to garner pity from anyone, but rather to express that, as all of us have experienced at some point, I am trying to overcome an unexpected curve ball that has recently been pitched at me.
This difficult period has been exacerbated by the recent euthanasia of my wonderful cat, Isaac, seen in the photo at the top of this page. I had been treating him for diabetes for about two years, and following a relatively recent additional diagnosis of acromegaly, it was evident his diabetes became uncontrolled. While he was not overtly suffering, his consumption of water had increased significantly and his voracious appetite, while I had previously written about it in my blog somewhat humorously, was really the only thing that was defining this cat. He lived to eat, would rarely leave his empty food bowl, and beg for food like a starving roadside village waif. His urine and stool were foul, reeking the house to a point where guests could not come over unless the house were fully aired out. The decision to euthanize him was based not only on condition, but on our suffering. Callous it may sound, but this is fact. While I could not predict exactly when, I knew that at some point he would start showing overt signs of suffering: he would develop ketoacidosis from uncontrolled diabetes, as well as the likelihood of starting to manifest neurological symptoms like behavioural changes and seizures secondary to acromegaly (caused by a pituitary tumor, which was spilling excessive growth hormone into his bloodstream). I was resolved it was his time, our time.
It was performed by me, peaceably, lovingly, painlessly, while he purred away in his owners' arms, knowing that they loved him as much as a human being can love anything.
Isaac was buried in a quiet corner of the backyard, with a large flagstone covering the earth over his grave, in which his body now lies still, while his spirit is meowing, hunting, and craving pizza somewhere above us.
Isaac, the cat: RIP 1995-2009
