My Mom is a great lover of animals. She has one beautiful fat and sassy indoor cat and two feral cats that live under her shed and on her back porch. The ferals are a mother and son that are neutered/spayed, current with their shots, well fed and accepting of my Mom’s (and ONLY my Mom’s) affection.At 85, my Mom now focuses a huge portion of her attention on the maintenance of these cats. She is well versed in the brands and flavors of food these two feral cats prefer and is well familiar with which stores carry these brands and flavors at the best price. These cats have set their asses in the proverbial tub o’ butter. She’s running a four-star, feral cat bed and breakfast.
Several days ago however, things got a little difficult. A new cat showed up on the scene looking for…the hospice. The proprietor of the B&B had herself one hell of a customer service issue.
The new cat was in very bad shape. It was sick or injured or maybe both. Its face was partially eroded away in such a manner that made it resemble the sphinx, over in Egypt that is.
The poor animal was friendly enough that I think it must have been someone’s pet. It was obviously dying. The Sphinx continued to deteriorate until finally when I got over there yesterday afternoon, I found Mom in tears fanning flies away from it. She didn’t know what else she could do to make it more comfortable. It was a hot, humid afternoon and Mom had been at it for several hours. She began really crying, and explained that she didn’t have the strength to take the cat to be euthanized.
By the time I got he box and towel and BF collected, the regularly scheduled afternoon thunderstorm was well underway. BF put on rubber gloves and scooped up the sick cat. He put it in a cardboard cat carrier and we whisked it off into my car. The stench of death and gangrenous cat filled the car. The windows went down. I drove down the length of the town’s main thoroughfare pelted by huge raindrops, thunder and lightning crashing on each side.
And so, the Sphinx was put down. BF did the hard part, God bless him! I just drove. The wonderful emergency veterinary clinic didn’t charge us.
After putting the cat down, BF showered and then we got pizza, pierogies and potato pancakes and spent several hours with Mom, eating and chatting and getting things back to baseline.
It occurs to me that being “heroic” consist of simply doing what’s got to be done when others are to panicked and/or overwhelmed to do it. Keeping your head, remaining dispassionate and taking action when others around you are flipping out is a very good thing...although not always possible.
