Operation.
Do what we can. Too big a debate and too emotional. Only to say, is this what you’d want your family to do for you.
Our family have always had a cat. On a main road we’ve been through a few, starting with a huge ginger tom that we first saw silhouetted in the porch door on xmas eve, origin unknown, but became the cat of the house for the next 12 years till an overtaking car got him. All his experience of the road and he was caught out by some **** overtaking on a suburban road. We called him Jasper , god alone knows why.
Next up was Suzi and Mindy.
Suzi was timid and lived pretty much inside all the time, that played a part in deteriorating health. Mindy was outdoor as outdoor gets and we even saw here bypassing the road by walking over the railway bridge.
She while walking on a fence fell and was impaled on one of the spikes, but made it home to safety and survived a number of operations including an open chest surgery to clean up the damage made by the spike. Not the most affectionate of cats, and more likely to scratch and bite you as well as be friendly, but she knew to come back. Survived another 8 years and in that time lost half an ear and a tail.
Unfortunately lost on the road.
Next max. Mum’s alone by now and the cat a 2nd son to her(A first I sometimes wonder), but unfortunately Max didnt survive the road, and we only had him 2 years. She’s reluctant to let them out, knowing the dangers and knowing young cats arent experienced enough to know the dangers, but she hates them sitting at the door, desperate to go out to explore this big new world. What can you do eh ?. Its a huge garden, but across the road must look so inviting.
No cat for a while and she is now in mid 70’s
Then she receives a kitten from a neighbour, who seemingly bought them on gumtree and their heath was poor to begin with.
It was the runt of the litter and not expected to survive. Mum fed that cat a hell of a lot of chicken. More chicken than an Olympian and as a result it grew to gigantic cat proportions, but not fat.
The original breeders tried to cross a rag doll and tabby and what the result hadnt worked, hence the early problems.
After 2 years he was forced to let him out, as she’s old and a constantly meowing cat is not good for her health and we all agreed and if the worst happened we’d try not to get as upset.
The ragdoll breeding left the cat will little sense of danger and the first big incident after falling as a kitten off a high table sometime during the night and breaking a rear leg, requiring the ball end of it to be amputated, still got the leg, runs funny but doesnt let that stop him.
But at some point he’s come into contact with a big dog, and judging from the injuries sustained had him entirely in its jaws across the back. Massive nerve damage according to the vet and to this day the entire area is devoid of fur. His tail died as a result of the injuries.
She doesnt know where exactly this took p[lace, but it was in someones garden and he was covered in oily water, probably from the owner throwing a bucket of whatever over the dog to release him.
Theres not really a dog within 3oom, and thats one hell of a journey to make it back.
My Mother also feels we owe them a responsibility, and despite her age nursed him back to health. Vets at 8am drive, up at any time of the night.
The bottom line is each time the injured cats, as near feral as they are knew to come home to get help. You cannot deny them that.
My own story of cats is being given one by a friends sister while she went to uni. Not a loan, and adopting.
Working at that time in the meat trade the scraps were plentiful and i fed him his hearts desire, cooked ham chicken etc, but the reality of my restricted diet caused him internal blockages in the bowel.
At the end he kept coming to me and meowing as if to play but i selfishly pushed him away. By the time i realized there was a problem it was too late to make a difference though I insisted and put him through an operation the vet said was unlikely to make a difference, but it was a chance, it cost £1800, and that was 10 years ago.
I did it because i didnt see the problem at first and felt a responsibility to do whatever it took, **** the cost. It was my fault and had i acted sooner he’d have survived easily.
I’ve not had a cat since as i dont think im fit to be attentive to their needs and to treat them as another member of the family, albeit one who cannot speak. I do love the little furry bundles of craws and teeth. The rude house guest. But it takes responsibility.
Actually, I wouldnt instill that in the family. “Yeah, pull the plug, it would have been what dad/gramps/uncle.. would have wanted” :lol:
Bertie and his oesophageal feeding tube by Ben Freeman[/url], on Flickr
Liquidised cat foot for oesophageal feeding tube by Ben Freeman[/url], on Flickr