Before we were parents to three high-energy humans, we were parents to three already-adult felines.
I always thought that our taking in of these strays and learning to care and be responsible for other beings was what made me feel ready for fatherhood when it came.
We lost the first of those three in 2019 – when our dear orange Beardslee left us due to what was believed to be cancer. I still miss his calming presence. His final months were a struggle, for he and us. He had lost control of his bowels, and hearing him awaken in the middle of the night often meant we had to as well in order to follow him through the house and clean up any mess left behind as he walked. It was trying and we wish we had known sooner just how sick he seemed to be. Looking back, while we always wish we could have more time with him, I still think it was better he went when he did in Fall 2019, before the chaos that would ensue just a few months later in 2020. I can’t imagine dealing with his needs, issues, and the constant appointments leading up to the end amid the upheaval in the world at the time.
Four-plus years later, the recent months have found our two remaining kitties dealing with their own share of health issues. Winston, our little gray boy, was diagnosed with diabetes in the fall after a stretch of out-of-character behavior and lethargy led to several vet visits and blood tests. Our other boy, Jasper, who has had thyroid issues for a few years, now is also battling arthritis, anemia, kidney failure, and about two weeks ago – blindness. It happened literally overnight. He woke up on a Friday morning and was bumping into everything, crying as if he were lost, and generally confused. The vet’s theory is that he had high blood pressure, which often goes hand-in-hand with kidney failure. A spike in that blood pressure overnight is what caused him to lose his sight. I can’t blame him for his fear. I would be downright terrified if I were to wake up one day without my ability to see.
Suddenly our little four-legged boy who, like clockwork, used to leap into bed and nudge his way between us, turn on his side and lay an arm on Meg to go to sleep can no longer find the bed, let alone have the vision to leap into it. We pick him up sometimes when he’s wandering in the dark and place him with us right where he would always go, but there’s always a level of alertness when we do. We need to be ready to wake up if he does before he walks off the bed and falls to the floor.
It’s been an adjustment for all of us – cats, parents, and kids included. We’re still adjusting. Two shots a day for Winston and a prescription diet seemed like a change of pace. But now, Jasper’s issues have went from just a pill twice a day for his thyroid to also a liquid med for arthritis, a once a month shot for arthritis, liquid iron for the anemia, his own prescription diet for the kidney disease, and liquid blood pressure medicine. Thank god for Meg, who handles the meds with aplomb like a seasoned alligator wrestler. Winston’s insulin shots, I can do, no problem. But with Jasper’s loss of sight, he no longer takes the pills in little pill pockets like he used to. And liquid meds? Phew. He will spit it all over rather than get it down his gullet, especially the iron. I can’t say I blame him. Who wants the taste of metal in their mouth every day?
Yes, they’re aging, just as we all do. Much like us, they each age differently. They’ve gone from being our “first babies” to watching us bring home little human babies. Now those little humans are growing up too, and helping care for the furry little siblings who once nudged their baby-sized heads on the floor. These latest changes in life for them has certainly led to a change for all of us. Our plans are now more regularly timed to coincide with medicine schedules, and with the recent blindness we try not to leave Jasper alone for too long on his own – at least until he gets a better lay of the land while being essentially in the dark.
But amid the disarray and the exhaustion, there does come a sliver of appreciation for the time we have while we have it. While it does not seem like we are yet in the end days as we were with Beardslee, so many health issues to tackle make us realize that our time with our loved ones, be they furry or otherwise, is far shorter than we would like. It’s easy to not realize amid the day-in and day-out that the faces we see, the people and beings we love, are on their own timetable. Enjoy the everyday moments, the things and faces and whiskers that seem so routine as we never know when that routine will quickly change and those seemingly mundane, every day moments will no longer be part of it.