He's just a cat, right?

At least that is what I keep telling myself....it doesn't help any. My favorite cat (even more favorite than any of ALL of the barn cats we had over the years including Mr. Furly, Tud, and Holly) has given me nothing but trouble since the day we brought him into the house. Long story short....four surgeries and more than $5000 later I still feel like I should have done more. You see this cat (at least I think) had an eating disorder. He'd eat any and everything.

First surgery the dr's asked me to exam what it was they took from his bowel because they just couldn't figure it out. It ended up being the neon orange pair of ear plugs that we used when we mow the lawn. In addition there were several "Polly Pocket" shoes and other accessories, along with about a dozen pony tail holders and a few rubber bands. Next two surgeries were more involved including a charm bracelet (yes a metal linked charm bracelet) again more rubber bands and pony tail holders. The most recent surgery was a shoe lace....let me rephrase that a BOOT lace. It was the cord type boot lace. About three feet entwined throughout his belly, intestines, and bowel. And you guessed it, more pony tail holders, rubber bands, and some miscellaneous things. Now....I try to keep the house clean, straight, picked up. But how do you make sure the cat doesn't eat those kinds of things?!?!? We kept all the doors closed and he only had access to the living space by the front of the house. My guess is that he would get mad when we would leave for work. Then again maybe he liked the texture?! He (and his brother) always had food available as well as water. In fact they both had access to food and water both in the kitchen and in the back bedroom. I just don't get it.
Now, most of you may be thinking why on earth would you have even spent the money on this cat to begin with!? He was that kind of cat. He was the most love-y cat you'd ever meet. He was always purring. Always. When the dr.'s would exam him they couldn't get over how he would just keep purring all through the visit. Even when you would think he was scared, you could still hear a purr from him. He LOVED everyone and if you came into HIS home (yes, we live with the cats!) he would be one of the first to greet you and if you somehow had nothing on your lap as you sit he'd make sure he filled it with....him.

Another reason we loved the cat so much is that we brought him home just two months after our son died. It helped ease the pain (if there is such a thing) with my two daughters when they heard the news of the unfortunate circumstances of my pregnancy. I know there was no replacement for our son. I knew that if we got the cats that it would in fact be harder to part with them later because of the emotional attachment. I knew this....yet it is hard to reason with a woman in such grief.

Well, after his third surgery only a month ago, he started healing and doing better. Then out of the blue he turned. He started with symptoms again that led me to believe he wasn't well. I immediately took him into the vet hospital after calling them ahead of time to explain the situation. There were two girls at the office who semi-adopted him and we actually called them Aunt Pia and Aunt Brittney because they were like family to this cat. They loved him as much as we did.

I signed all the appropriate papers (even though they had all of our current info....we were just there for surgery a month ago) and asked the girls to take good care of my baby. He stayed overnight but through the night his condition worsened. They took him into surgery Tuesday morning and before he had a chance to come out of anesthesia he died. His little body (although he was a large cat) just couldn't handle anymore.

I cried of course for the loss of the cat and what he meant to our family but also the tremendous guilt I felt that I didn't take good enough care of him. I should have done more. What kind of mother am I? And of course that all leads up to the questions I had regarding my own sons and how I felt somehow responsible for what happened (genetics can't be helped though).

The girls knew we took him to the vet hospital and that he needs to stay there a while. Aunt Pia and Aunt Britteny are going to be taking care of him. I just haven't had the heart to tell them what happened. They loved that cat. Still do. The attachment they have to this cat is unlike any other I've seen. I know I need to tell them but it is so hard for me to cope as well....how do I tell them?!!? They've already been through so much! I keep telling myself he was just a cat....it's not working. I still miss him.......