Cat-people by j vargo

Cat-people

by j vargo

Cat-People Clyde came to us from a farm. There was just something about the inquisitiveness in that photograph that made our choice simple. Running, climbing, and scratching, he nimbly breezed through his kittenhood and adolescence. As our first "child," he ruled the roost, but he quietly stepped aside when the human children came. As all cats do, Clyde had his idiosyncrasies, and his ways of letting you know when things were great or glum. But you know? So did we. As age inevitably crept in with its pernicious ebbing of spunk and spitfire, Clyde exhibited a more masterful contentment with his surroundings. He had his cycle of sleeping spots which were utilized depending on the time of the day and the season. When he wasn't himself, we found out about the kidney failure.... a death sentence, but when? Clyde rallied for two more years with dietary intervention. But on the cusp of his 18th year with us, it was obvious to all that Clyde was failing quickly. How do you make the call on your cat-child's mortality? I am a physician who faces the cycle of life with the dignity and respect that it deserves, but this was different. This was family. Clyde's failing health was now a central, yet unspoken focus of the family. I knew that he needed comfort and peace. I had to divest myself of the criminal feelings of guilt that accompany such a decision, but that is never a clean break, is it? As the hours for the "visit" to the veterinarian ticked away, memories of 18 years bloomed and flooded my memory again. As I took him out of the house for the last time and as we drove to the clinic, his meows told me that .....he knew!! My oldest son and I were there. The staff prepared us for the process. But let me tell you, staring death in the eye is never something you get used to. Clyde did not fight me when I took him out his travel box. His characteristic resistance to the veterinarian was not to be seen.. he knew!! His quiet dignity eclipsed his appearance of taut skin covering bones. Even the staff treated Clyde with the deference and respect that 136 people-years deserves. The tranquilizer worked quickly. I think that there was a moment of surprise on Clyde's face but certainly no pain... no pain like the pain that he had endured with his illness. In death, Clyde had yet given another gift... my son and I shared a powerful moment with Clyde's passing. We cried together. The house is now eerily empty. The physicality is slowly sublimating into memories. I almost thought that I saw him in his familiar haunts. Was that his meow or the television? Clyde will be coming home after cremation and a ceremony will be planned. He will endure in our hearts for much longer than his eighteen years. Thank you Clyde for those 18 years with us. Thank you for showing me how to die with dignity. Thank you for helping me make the decision easier. Cats are sort of like people, don't you think?

Comments would be appreciated by the author, j varg