It was inevitable. I could only put it off for so long. Three long years went by...and kitty still had her ovaries. Now, let this be a disclaimer: if you hate animals...or cats...stop reading this post right now. Walk away. Shut off the computer. Do not read another line. Because this post, inevitably, is all about the one thing you hate.
Back to the point. So, after years of putting off the dreaded ovary removal. It was time. I could only take so much torture. And as you may have noticed from my last entry...kitty was torturing me with her pain. Siamese cats are known for their...ahem..unique personalities...but try having a unique personality go into "heat" for a week. That is seven days. So, I swallowed my ability to overlook kitty's flaws and I did the unthinkable. I called the vet. Her appointment was set into stone upon my stark white calendar. There was no going back now.
Unfortunately, kitty's big day did not come without inflicting pain upon me as well. I had to crawl out of bed at 6:00 a.m and drive on dark roads to a destination that was, in the boonies. Horror movie material. Not to mention, I got lost. Because I have such an awesome sense of direction. The back roads were just too much for my frail spirit to handle at that time.
My emotional state was unstable. And as if kitty new this, she started letting out this pitiful cry when I finally pulled into the driveway of shame. I couldn't handle the thought of leaving my fuzzy companion my little "kibosky" (yes, I just name dropped her nick-name) at the mercy of strangers. That lived in the sticks no less. What was a reputable vet doing out in the middle of no where? Maybe I should have got some references? Wrote out a list of the things she hates? My clock on the dash told me it was time.
I walked into the deserted, slightly abnormal vet office. Kitty looked like she was ready to pass out in her cage. Which made me wonder if she knew what was coming next. The lady made me sign a piece of paper. Signing kitty away. Then I made the pass. The lady swept the cage out of my hands and I caught a glimpse of kitty huddled in the corner, hiding next to her stuffed reindeer. My bottom lip quivered.
I thought it best to make a b-line for my car, as I whimpered and let the tears fall. Pathetic? Yes. But, necessary just the same. I had betrayed my friend. I had just left her there. I didn't say goodbye. I didn't comfort her. Oh the guilt.
Needless to say I spent the day moping waiting for the kitty surgery to be complete. Once I got the magical call I sped back to the boonies in search of my furry friend. I was greeted by a drugged and slightly pathetic version of my cat. She donned neon pink stitches, which I made a mental note of just in case I ever needed stitches. I brought the fuzz home and watched her struggle to move, she was in pain. And changed.
And I thought how painful it is to watch something you love go through pain. Even necessary pain. Even when it is for the better. Even when you know it will not be forever. Just a little cat. But, still my little companion.
Needless to say, she is back to normal now. Terrorizing my rug. Eating all the time. Talking back. Licking everything. Fetching her reindeer. And biting erick.