Saturday, January 14, 2006

Black Jack

I have a cat. A diabetic cat. An insulin dependent diabetic cat. His name is Jack. He is Black.
Say hello to Jack:


I never thought I'd have a diabetic cat who needs insulin shots twice a day but here he is. We first noticed something was wrong when his hind legs stopped working properly. They kept slipping as if he was walking on ice and they didn't move with the front legs in a coordinated fashion. He couldn't jump up on the bed anymore (a bonus if you ask me) and he seemed extremely thirsty all the time. We couldn't keep his water dish full enough.

Then the real problems began. He didn't seem to be able to make it to the litter box anymore and started peeing all over the house. Strangely enough, he wouldn't pee just anywhere. He had to pee on something that was laying on the floor. Preferably a blanket but he wasn't picky. He peed on newspapers, plastic bags or any other relatively flat object. He woudn't just pee in the middle of the floor. There had to be something to pee on. We took Jack to the vet, tests were run (many expensive tests) and the verdict was returned. Dr. X-ray, your cat has diabetes and you will need to give him injections twice a day for the rest of his life.

At this point I thought to my self: This is the perfect opportunity to get rid of this cat. Now don't get me wrong. I like cats. I've had a number of them over the years and we've gotten on quite well. Particularly Tigger, an orange tabby who looked like Moris the cat and at one point in his life had to have been the worlds largest and fattest cat. Tigger was a house cat and was declawed but still managed to sneak out on a regular basis to go hunting. The way he got out was this. He was so strong that he would butt his head into the screen door in our kitchen repeatedly and eventually tear a hole in the screen just with the force of his head. I don't know how many times I had to replace that screen.

When I was single and lived alone I appreciated having a pet around for company. However, once I got married and had kids the pets gradually became a nuisance. I had enough to deal with without the added aggravation of cleaning up cat puke off the rug every few days. . It was always difficult to find someone to watch him when we left town. And one of my best friends is allergic to cats and has to be heavily medicated before he can come over. The hassle factor of having a cat quickly out weighed the enjoyment factor which the cat provided (which was actually very little; he is, after all, a cat. How much fun can they be?) And now at last a chance to live a pet free existance.

Yeah right. When I informed the munchkins A and N that Jack would have to go they promptly burst into tears. "No-o-o-ot Ja-a-a-a-c-c-k-k! sob sob! It was almost as bad as if I'd told them we were getting rid of the Playstation2 and all the TV's in the house. My wife, S, gave me the look and I new right then that this cat would remain a part of our household no matter what the cost!

It's 4 months later. Jack eats special (ie expensive) diabetic cat food, gets his insulin twice a day and has made a complete recovery. He can walk again, jump up on the bed and pees in the litter box. And I only have to clean up puke off the rug about once a week.

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