Wednesday, November 11, 2009


Sometimes my mom calls me "Lamy."  It's a non-endearing combination of Lisa and Amy, which really just means, "One of you girls. Come. Now. It doesn't matter which one." As we've been dealing with sick kitty, Lotus, Shawn and I have both been slipping and calling her Schuster, a cat from long ago whose life didn't have such a pretty ending, either. There have been other cats and two dogs in our lives, but for some reason, we've been channeling Schuster. He was full of attitude and charm, the latter making the former somehow adorable. His brother, Simon, was loving and beautiful, but Schuster always stole the show. One day we discovered a tumor, had it removed and after a pretty brutal recovery, he survived another year. He seemed to know he was living on borrowed time and in that year lost all attitude and was full-on charm. It's Schuster's last year that I think about when I look at Lotus. I wish I knew exactly what was wrong with her, but after lots of labs and x-rays and tests, we still have no idea. All I know is that for a lot more pain we could fix some of the symptoms, but as far as curing a problem and getting another year, no. What is more likely is that she will just get sicker and sicker and die. But I can end her suffering now if I want to. We live in a strange society. I remember watching my grandmother get sicker and sicker and die. After a full life, the best we could do was let her starve to death, hooked up to wires and tubes in a cold hospital bed. It was the most inhumane, uncivilized, incredibly heartbreaking thing I have ever witnessed. She deserved more than that. So, in a way, cats have it better. I can say when enough is enough.

Tomorrow's enough.

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