Stumble It!
Dear Connie,
I am writing this confession to you, for when you are older. Someday, you will read this and I hope that you will not think me a cruel man for the choices that your mother and I have made.
Yesterday, I killed your kitty. The vet injected her with the poison, but it is my hands that are soaked with her blood.
Luna was your first special pet. When you picked her out of the crowd at a pet shop a short 18 months ago, you were so excited. I’m not sure I’d seen such joy on a child’s face before. You held her, resplendent, and smiled with unequivocal love for this beautiful little tabby cat.
For the first few months, Luna let you carry her around like a rag doll. She didn’t have much time for you mother and me, and she wanted nothing to do with your energetic, i.e., insane, brothers. She could be found on your bed when you went to sleep, and would urgently wake you in the mornings with head butts and face licking, as though she could wait no longer for your affection.
As six months turned to a year, Luna began to spend more time alone, and she grew more distant from us all. One morning, you realized with some sadness that she waited until you were out of your bed to take her place at its foot to sleep. She still wanted to be in that place, where she could feel your presence which gave her comfort and security. But her independence was growing, and she became reclusive from even you. A daily chin scratch took the place of your once lengthy play times. Her skittishness increased in significant ways. Eventually, she even stopped sleeping with Delilah, her younger feline comrade.
Just a few weeks ago, before leaving for a two-week trip to Minnesota, Sonny and I were sparring in the tub, and Luna’s anxiety got the best of her. She emptied her full bladder into our closet, and hid for some time. We were concerned about leaving the two cats alone, fearing what we might find upon our return. But the house was untainted, our absence having calmed the space from the walls to the floorboards.
As the audible evidence of our return chased the silence away, we began to find spots of cat pee about the house. They seemed to occur most frequently in your brothers’ room, a clear message of frustration.
I cannot deny that as I drove Luna to see the vet that morning two days ago, a part of me hoped that she would have a terrible, irreversible illness, making the decision easy. Instead, the vet told us that she had a high number of crystals in her urinary tract, which was causing her pain while urinating. He informed me that Luna had feline lower urinary tract disease, which she would , with certainty, battle her entire life. Most likely, she would struggle with peeing in the house for years, a reality that many homeowners are unable to deal with. Cat urine is very difficult to get out of carpeting, and the costs of dealing with the smell and damage are significant. Plus, we were overwhelmed by the prospect having to always be on the watch, hoping that the children aren’t playing in a pee spot, or worrying that their soft snuggles were soaking up the foul stuff while they sat on the floor. Seeing my struggle with this information, the vet told me that the number one reason that people have their cats put to sleep is because of urinary problems.
There were some options. We could have treated the abundance of crystals with a special prescription diet plan, and explored the severity of the problem by further evaluation. She may have needed surgery, but that would not be the first step. Because our house is not large enough to allow for Luna to have privacy to naturally address her stress, the vet wanted to use a pheromone diffuser to help reduce Luna’s anxiety, which he felt was quite severe. The dietary food would be necessary for the rest of her life; the diffuser (or potentially, anxiety medication, if the diffuser did not work) would not necessarily be forever, but considering that the stresses of having three young children are not going to go away, it is likely that she would have ongoing anxiety issues.
The vet wanted us to try; but, he doesn’t live in our house. He doesn’t understand that it is a miracle that I am not hiding in the dark parts of our house, peeing in protest to my children’s cries. Recently your mother and I were trying to decide if we could afford an extra $70 per month to send you to gymnastics, and had decided against it. The costs of trying to treat Luna, with no guarantee of success or positive effect, would have been as great or more. Did it make sense to accept such high cost for a small chance of success? I also didn’t want to tell you that Luna was unhappy in our home, that our family was making her ill, physically and mentally. How could I tell you that your beloved little kitty can’t handle our family?
Delilah and Luna
We made the decision to put Luna down. We told you and the boys that Luna was very sick and in a lot of pain; she was. We could have tried to treat it, but we felt that we were unable to take that path for the better of our family.
It was an awful decision to make. Taking you in to say goodbye to Luna was easily the worst moment of my life, next to the death of my father on my high school graduation day. Watching your lip quiver as we silently drove the few blocks to our destination, I hated myself. I believed that I was making a choice that would be easiest on you and your brothers. But I knew, that it was also the easiest on me. Fighting would be much harder. I didn’t have it in me, not for Luna, not right now.
Such are the choices that we make: influenced by emotion, attempts at rationalization, and always vulnerable to perfidy and treason.
So, my darling little girl, I beg for your understanding. Your mother and I have tried to raise you with a strong compass for finding your way in the murky haze of morality that you will find in real life. I hope you will forgive me for this decision. Perhaps you will think that I am overly critical of our choice. I love you terribly, and want nothing more than to ease any pain that you have, now or ever.
Love Always,
Daddy
Filed under: bad daddy, important life lessons, questionable parenting decisions | Tagged: cats, death, morality
Our black lab has a lump on her nose (increasing in size it seems – she’s still really cute). We spent the $250 on the x-ray (are you kidding?), but passed on the $1,000 biopsy. At some point, I expect there will difficult decisions to make – including what role our kids (who are accustomed to consensus-based decision making) will have in it all.
I will, no doubt, soon enought be asking myself WWRDD( what would raging dad do)?
Hang in there. And, it goes without saying -but I will -good job.
One of our dogs…she is 12, has tumors popping up everywere. She is in greatspirits and dos nt seem to be in any pain…but I am sure tat it won’t be long before it is HER TIME.
It is ad…but the right thing to do.
Dude. What can I say? I hear you. It isn’t about the cat. I hear you saying the best decision was made. However, however… In the mind and heart of a sweet, beautiful, innocent, trusting five year-old raging daughter – well…
Have you violated her trust? Have you crushed her innocence? Will she ever understand?
Even writing this down, as a confession for later years, is a risk. She is likely to forget the whole thing in a haze of childhood memories. However, your written confession is likely to open old wounds and re-sting an older child.
I commend you for taking this risk. My parents lied to me one too many times – if not a dozen – and I still could never get a straight answer from them.
Every time I, as a mere-mortal parent, experience issues like this, I get a small taste of the choices my omnipotent God has had to make. Sometimes the least of two evils – in favor of all humanity. And sometimes at risk of my life, sanity, or happiness.
@irishgirl–That’s tough. I can’t imagine spending a thousand dollars on a biopsy, personally. Your kids are old enough that you could have a pretty meaningful discussion about it. Keep me posted…
@TentCamper–Great that she is still in good spirits. Have your kids noticed?
@Gary–I’m completely comfortable with her reading this one day, and we will certainly talk about the greater complexities of the decision at some point. And I don’t think that she will forget the event. I remember losing pets from my childhood. In fact, I believe that the whole process helped me to understand (rather, prepare to understand) the difficult subject of death.
Thanks for the discussion. Keep it coming!
Sounds like a tough decision. But you had to make it and I for one would not be able to live in cat pee for years to come. You can never ever get it completely out of the house and I think your kids would remember the horrible odor longer than they will remember their cat. I admire your bravery to write down all you felt about this. Not all decisions we have to make are pretty.
now THAT was damn sad. I’ll have to have a martini after that. (I’ll make one for you, too )
my heart goes out to your family.
That’s such a difficult decision to make. I’m so sorry.
Featured on Good Mom/Bad Mom on the Houston Chronicle online: http://tinyurl.com/6hwlhy
Sorry for your loss. Hope your girl understands and forgives, even though forgiveness isn’t needed.
Know where you’ve been. Our Lab developed lymphomia at 7, barely middle age for his breed. I knew it would get him eventually but I went ahead and spent a lot of money, time and extra effort (homecooked meals, vitamins, etc.) to get him (and me) another six months together. It was a six months I needed more than he did. Putting him down was hardest on me, but now and then the kids do get a bit sad thinking about. They have enough taken the blame for his death at one time or another, despite my telling them it wasn’t anything to do with them.
I understand the decision you made, and would probably have made the same. Not that it helps with the guilt.
I lost many pets as a child and could not tell you the exact cause of death now. I do not have kids, but think going through the death of a pet is a lesson. One that I will have my kids go through. One that will cause me just as many tears as an adult as it did when I was a child.
Thanks for sharing.
This is what parenting comes down to. Those difficult decisions. I would have chosen the same thing, but with much heartache, as you clearly had. I’m sorry about Luna.
Ouch. OUCH. This one hit home because I had to make a similar decision a few years back – our pretty golden Sadie-dog, delivered by Santa and the best friend my girls ever had, started having seizures. We couldn’t afford the expensive tests to determine what was wrong and her condition deteriorated rapidly within a two-week period, until one day we had to take her to the vet and get her put to sleep. Talk about guilt – right up until a vet tech friend of ours sat me down, asked me about all the symptoms, and told me it was most likely a tumor and we would have had no choice in the long run.
It’s rough. It sucks. But life is hard and filled with tough decisions; your girl will read your post and understand this, I am sure.
We have had urinary problems with our cat for the entire 16 years of her life. I think if any of the vets had ever thought to tell me that we would struggle with this for the rest of her life, I would have made the same decision you did.
You made the right decision. A tough one, but the right one.
be strong, papa. tough call, but as others have suggested, you did the right thing.
Hi there. Just found your blog entry via a Google search. You may never see this entry, but wanted to say how much it has helped me.
Two days ago, I put down my six-year old cat. She has always been temperamental and finally, after months of watching her like a hawk, she attacked my ten-month old daughter. Instead of dumping her with a new owner or at a shelter, we made the difficult choice to end her life.
I am heartbroken to have lost my little pal. But my priority as a parent is to keep my daughter safe from harm. She will heal and so hopefully so will my heart some day.
It never occurred to you to ask others to see if they would adopt the cat?
granted you made your decision based on financial reasons. But why do you people with kids get animals and DONT consider the cost of vet bills?
If costs are so bad, get insurance or don’t get the damn pet.
You killed a cat, lied to your daughter and then pretended that it was for the good of the family.
Have you considered asking people who had the money to treat the cat?
And the question again is WHY do you bring a living, breathing animal into your home just to kill it when it’s not convenient anymore.
Can’t afford it? Don’t get it in the first place.
I just found this like other recent posts after a Google search. We just put our little guy down after living with dumped urine in several different houses and apartments for over a decade. It was so difficult to say good-bye, and ultimately it came down to the fact that he was clearly an anxious, depressed cat. We tried Prozac, Valium, Feliway, 2-weeks with expensive litter in a bathroom, outside, inside, outside/inside, wood floors, empty boxes, several boxes, on and on and on. Nothing worked. Nothing. This last post in October — yeah, I did try… I tried everything and everyone I know across the country. Shelter directors begged me not to drop him off, friends would not take on the responsibility… no one wants a cat who pees. No one. Sad, but true. My cat was 12 or 13 when he died yesterday, and I am feeling quite guilty and sad, but I know it was the right choice. I only wish I would have done it sooner as his last year was really tough. He was miserable and anxious all the time… and drugs only made him worse. It was a horrible situation.
You are an asshole.
That is a lame and lazy excuse for killing a cat.
Obviously, you lack commitment to the beings that depend on you. Some dad.
Your daughter will grow up to be smart enough to know that it was not necessary for you to kill her cat for this treatable condition, and she may never forgive you. And you’d deserve it.
Thanks for the honest, if a bit harsh, opinion. Now that time has gone by, I am convinced that I made the absolute right decision. We have two cats now who are wonderful with the kids, they are affectionate and are not stressed even a bit by the loudness of our home.
It was sad, but I have no regrets. You are welcome to disagree.
As a Newbie, I am always searching online for articles that can help me. Thank youWow!
Whats up, I just now sought to start by nevertheless the contribution at this point is simply amazing. I’m sure everyone does a fine job here and wanted to make that known. Maybe you have pondered blogging for money? there is certainly a web presence http://pet-abuse.webs.com that pays you to write articles, you would be good at it.
Why didn’t you give it up for adoption or better, ask and see if any elderly people in your area were looking for a pet? That way she could even have still seen it sometimes.