Picture if you will: A sickly feline, a devoted cat-mom, a can of wet food, a towel, and a syringe. No good could come of this scenario.
Piglet is home under the condition that I FORCE-FEED a can of wet food every day. Her liver is in a state of self-repair, and a lack of nutrients will make her regress, undoing all the progress we've made thus far. As much as her name might indicate otherwise, Piglet is not really a big eater. She likes a lot of different kinds of food (her favourite for begging purposes: applesauce), but does not really eat beyond her capacity for storage. She will beg for something but when I finally submit to her pleas, she will sniff the food at hand, look at me, then walk away. It is, in fact, all about the successful hunt for her, as opposed to the enjoyment of the actual prize. This is why it is so difficult to force-feed the Pig. She doesn't want it.
I have been instructed to wrap her little kitty-body in a towel -nice and tight -as if she were a feline burrito. I am then to suck up, into a syringe, a bunch of watered down wet-food, at which point I am supposed to hold her down, open her mouth, and inject the nutritious morsels into the back of her throat. No problem. Sounded like a well laid out plan. Yeah. One factor that comes into play here, though: THIS IS THE PIG AND PIG DOESN'T DO WHAT PIG DOESN'T WANT TO DO. She has made it very clear to me that this whole feeding thing goes way beyond the boundaries of our relationship -as if I am in breech of some contract, for which she will plot, and eventually seek vengeance. For those of you who don't know the Pig, she is a feline version of Stewie Griffin (a la Family Guy). She schemes, she plots, and she has enough attitude to shame a classroom full of tenth grade girls. She is furious about our new dinner dates and expresses her opinion in no uncertain terms. When she's not hissing and growling at me as I try to nourish her poor depleted frame, she is violently shaking her head from side to side, making it nearly impossible for me to cram her yap full of tuna-like goodness. What DOES make it into her mouth may or may not remain there, as she has somehow learned to close her throat, and to spit the remnants back out at me. By the end of each feeding session, we are both drenched head to toe in cat food. I feel bad for her, but it's called tough love -and any decent parent out there will know that sometimes you have to be a hard ass for the benefit of all involved.
I love my Pig. Clearly. I wouldn't be doing this for shites and giggles. Put it this way, after the amount of money that went into her little 10.7lb body this week, in addition to my blood, sweat and tears over this food thing, she's damned lucky she's cute. Oh... who am I kidding? She's my "fur child". Of course I'm going to do what I can to help her survive. Any pet owner (a REAL pet owner) would do the same. So, I guess I will continue on the path to wellness, and do my parental duty -albeit unpleasant for both of us. I will continue to wear regurgitated MediCal with pride, knowing that I am a good mom, and I'm sure, despite the spitting, growling, and hissing, Piggy thinks so too.
Godspeed, little Pig.
HAVE YOUR SAY: Have you ever had to make the decision that "enough was enough" when it came to a treatment for a pet?
3 comments:
Have I ever had to make that decision? No. I've only watched from the sidelines as people have struggled with the thought of making that hard decision to say it's enough- whether it's for the good of their animal or if they cannot afford the treatment recommended. When I think about what I would do if I had to decide the fate of my "kids" my eyes immediately well up with tears and I have to think of something else to stop from crying in front of clients. Unfortunately, I see the other side of the coin, where people just walk in with smiles on their faces and do away with their animals for reasons such as "i'm moving and it's better than putting them through the stress of being in a shelter" or "I just don't want him/her anymore". But those people aren't "real pet owners" as you say.
As someone who hands people the costs of treatment, usually outrageous sums of money- plus GST!- I can honestly say that we are not all rubbing our hands together in anticipation of milking every last penny while the owner is thinking things over. We care, a lot, about the health of our clients. Sometimes even to the point that a staff member will go to the clinic in the middle of the night because they "had a feeling" just to check up on them. I've called the office before I've had to be there and even on my days off to "see how (insert funny name here) is doing". I hope I never have to go through something like that but that's the risk you take when you love your pets. If the decision isn't hard then it's not love you're feeling.
I'm rooting for the Pig!
Amanda:
I know you all care very much about every animal that walks in that door. That's why I continue to bring my nearest and dearest there -and I recommend the office to anyone who asks for advice. You have all taken such great care of all of my wee ones over the years (remember the adventures with Jeebus last year?), and I am thankful for that. Even Pig likes you now-- even though her file is flagged for her interesting "dispostion". (hahha)
Yes, the prices are sometimes outrageous, but those of us who love our pets know that they are worth it. Not everyone can afford to pay the dough, but every effort should at least be made to work something out. Euthanisia sould be a last resort, not the first and only option. Not everyone is so loving, however. In fact, I just talked to someone last night who put 3 bullets into a cat and thought nothing of it. Wow.
Awww poor thing. (But dont be offended, your post made me laugh until there were tears in my eyes. In my imagination Piggy is a huge cat - even though shes not nearly as big as I like to pretend).
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