||[Jul. 15th, 2009|08:48 pm]
Momcat's luck has run its course. The polyp in her ear has come back and it's larger. On top of this we found out today the vet thinks it may be cancerous. I've come to the conclusion, as her guardian, that the best thing to do is euthanize her.
But don't be sad -- hold back a moment, because there is good in all of this, I promise.
We knew after her last visit to the vet that she needed an additional surgery. Years ago when Thunderbelly, who might actually have been the coolest cat on Earth, died I promised Milla (who was the only other being in my life at the time) I would never let her suffer. I decided that if Momcat could have Quality of Life then I'd subject her to another trapping, another taxi ride, another surgery, and another recovery, not knowing if there would be more afterwards. trillian_stars and I spent the last three months trying to see if we could guarantee her that Quality of Life, knowing that we had a limited time to determine that. Anti-depressants were a failure, drastic socialization attempts as well.
In the four years that Momcat's been here, we've made only very limited progress -- she's still a feral cat and she's too far gone to ever be anything more (or less). It's sad for me to think this, but we've tried, she is what she is.
City Kitties is helping us find a vet who will come and perform the euthanasia here, because I don't want her last hours on earth to be trapping, car rides, and terrifying new places.
Momcat was never truly happy. She was, at times, less grumpy and less persecuted, but that's it. She was a broken one that I couldn't fix.
I'll be calling vets tomorrow morning.
In the meantime -- there is something you can do. City Kitties takes care of stray cats and kittens every day finding them homes and medical care and while momcat sits, grumpy, on my bed hating everybody who walks past, City Kitties knows a dozen cats that want, desperately want, humans. You can send them a donation in Momcat's name and from this sad thing, so many good things can happen.
When the fell deed is done we shall have a celebration to remember her life and you'll all be invited. The life she had was, really, the best one she could possibly have had given the cards she was dealt. And right now, although I'm dripping a cascade of tears onto this keyboard, I feel accomplished. She and I tried our best. I will see her as far as I can along the best road I can find for her.
Don't feel sorry for us, that doesn't accomplish anything; instead, be something positive for someone:--turn this moment into shining, radiant good.