Can there be a worse blog post than how sad I am that my cat died? Well, my cat died, and the only crying on the Internet's shoulder I need to do needs to be the helpful sort.
1. First off, a diabetic cat is hard to manage. Especially if they are the indoor-outdoor type. Try as I might, I couldn't manage Tiger's diabetes. I gave him insulin shots twice a day as directed. I increased the dosage as directed. But I'm not a vet. I don't think we ever got it right, and Tiger's blood sugar fluctuated wildly. I rubbed Karo syrup on his gums when I thought he was in an insulin crash (turns out his blood sugar was sky high, so I only made it worse). I gave him insulin when I thought his blood sugar was high, and it turns out it wasn't.
A few days ago he went into some kind of crisis, and we had to put him to sleep. We miss him. That's good, because that means he was a character whose personality we enjoyed immensely (most of the time). And the other thing that's good is that he had a life where he did whatever he wanted (until he was put outside for stealing food off the table or the baby bird was snatched from his mouth), he had no notion of his own death or sickness, and he got to boss the dog around. Even the neighbor's dog. He had a good life. Go out. Get a cat. They'll make you happy.
2. If you have a cat, don't let it get fat. Tiger carried a lot of extra weight around for several years of his life to the point where people would see him and say, "Now that's a fat cat," and that predisposed him to diabetes. Sure, he looked like a street-fighting man, all swagger and beer belly, but it wasn't good for him. Maybe if he'd been a healthy weight most of his life he'd still be here. I've had lots of fat cats, and I'm going to love the ones I have in the future (and the remaining cat, Izzie) enough to not feed them when they don't need feeding. I don't get to eat everything I want. Why should a cat just because they're cute and know how to ask for it?
Finally, one last Tiger story. A few weeks ago it was very cold and he looked like he wasn't feeling that great, so I kept him inside until the weather got kinder. Then I gently laid him out in the sunshine, like he was an old person pushed out of the nursing home in a wheelchair to soak up the sunshine and fresh air. I ran to the grocery store. When I got back, there was Tiger, enjoying the sunshine -- and what little was left of a very fresh Blue Jay.
Spring is coming, and this will be the first year in nine years that we won't be chasing Tiger across the yard with a baby bunny in his mouth. I'm not sad about that. Did you know baby bunnies could scream? (And they did. It's a sound that will make your hair stand up.)
Tiger, Mighty Hunter, Incorrigible Trash Can Turner-Overer, Attacker of Grocery Bags Before I Could Unload Them, Vet-Slasher and King of the Neighborhood, RIP. Or, don't eat all the bluebirds in heaven before I get there.
I think this just turned into one of those "my cat died" posts. Sorry.
I'm so sorry your cat died. :(
Posted by: Anwyn | March 12, 2009 at 08:05 PM
I'm so sorry to hear you've lost your cat. I still miss ours terribly and it's been four years since they've been gone.
But I have to honor your commitment to Tiger. Diabetes is difficult enough to manage as a human being taking care of one's self. I cannot imagine managing it for someone else, let alone someone that can't fully communicate what's going on. I think it was beyond admirable what you did for Tiger. And there's nothing wrong with writing about it.
Posted by: jae | March 12, 2009 at 10:47 PM
I'm very much a cat person, but my wife is deathly allergic, so sadly, it is not to be.
My sister's cat died many years ago, and as much of a pain in the butt as it could be, there was definitely a "hole where a cat should be" in the house for a long time.
Sorry for your loss...
Posted by: Steve B | March 13, 2009 at 04:04 AM