It’s Monday With Merlin and I’ve been thinking about birthdays. My mom, Layla is celebrating her birthday this week but won’t say which day or Cod forbid which number, won’t announce it in any group or Facebook or Twitter, so this it. She is not in the mood to celebrate and wants nothing. Well nothing for herself. Her only wish is to help cats. Her secret birthday wish is to see me reach my 21st birthday on Oct.2. That of course is up to the cat gods and vicissitudes of feline fate.
I’ve lost my appetite and I’m back on an appetite stimulant which sort of working but I’m more wobbly. I just don’t have enough muscle mass left to hold myself up so my back legs are kind of floppy. I can make my way down the stairs but going up is difficult so I’m carried up. I can’t make it off the bed but getting up even with a step stool is iffy. My teeth are bothering me when I’m not on antibiotics and I can’t be on them all the time. Surgery is high risk at this point. There is a daily quality of life check-in that responsible pet parents of the very old need to make but it’s easy to slip into denial and not so easy to be objective especially with worrywarts like folks. With a slow gradual decline like mine, there are bumps in the road like my recent URI, but I’ve weathered them. Only now I’m more fragile.
The quality of life scale really boils down to: are there more good days than bad days. When the bad days outnumber the good days, it’s time to have the conversation no pet parent wants to have. What treatment options continue to be available. How invasive or aggressive a treatment is warranted. Are there the funds for veterinary specialists which can reach 5 figures. Even if there are funds, is it fair to prolong the life of an animal for a few months when they’re ready to go. They say, you’ll know in in their eyes when it’s time for euthansia but that’s where denial can pop up. For instance, my dad thinks I’m fine and could live for another couple years. My mom thinks otherwise and has already picked out a spot to bury me in. One of them is right. I keep telling them I’m not ready but maybe I’m the one in denial. Worry is in the air but lots of love too. I love my daily Reiki, snuggle time in bed and outside on the picnic blankie or on the porch. I’m moving tortoise slow but still like wandering in the garden. A big red flag is I’m not as interested in garden scents as before. If I do make it until my big birthday, I have no interest hanging around to freeze my bony ass this coming winter. No, thank-you. I hate the cold. I hear the afterlife has climate control at a purrfect 78 degrees.
It’s hard to believe this was taken only four years ago when I could still see and was shall we say, a pretty boy. My eyes are no longer blue like this, not that I could see them anyway. True beauty is more than fur deep any way. Like all cats, I don’t care if my mom puts on a few pounds, has wrinkles or bad hair days. Actually, cats prefer their humans more natural without a lot of artificial perfumes and stinky hair spray. Our sense of is smell is so highly developed we can smell a mouse a mile away. Well at least Odin can.
If you are feeling like giving a little birthday prezzy, we’re collecting funds for enrichment of the cats at shelter where Layla volunteers. She hadn’t been in awhile and brought 50 mini scratchers last week and was shocked to see no toys in the cages and hardly any in the cage-free rooms. Things have a way of breaking and disappearing when there are 100 cats. Layla usually uses her own money for enrichment (toys, cardboard scratchers, catnip, Feliway). Items quickly get dirty in cages and need to be replaced often. There is a PayPal donation button in the footer and any amount is appreciated.
Beside the donation button is our Instagram widget with our latest kitty pics. Click on any image and it’ll take you to our page or click on www.Instagram.com/catwisdom101