Oscar
Originally uploaded by jenworth.
I had to let my dear, sweet cat Oscar go this past weekend.
Oscar has been declining slowly. He's had thyroid problems; he went from an 18 pound beefy boy to a 10 pound kitty this past year. He's been having other issues, too. Last week, though, it became clear he was really having difficulties. Oscar's back leg went out, and he moved about dragging the leg behind him. It just didn't work. The shuffling sound of the dragging appendage made me so sad.
Somehow, I knew I had to let him go. It was his time. We made the appointment to let him go. I am forever indebted to my wonderful vet and her staff for making the room and experience perfect for saying goodbye with dignity.
When Dr. Reed examined Oscar, she found a large mass in his abdomen. She said it was most likely cancerous, and it was pressing on a nerve in his leg, rendering the leg non-functional. This confirmed that this really was the right decision.
Saying goodbye was so hard. Staring into Oscar's eyes and watching him leave his body was so sad, yet so peaceful. He was ready, he didn't struggle. He was able to leave before the suffering became worse.
As I rode to the vet's office with the kitty carrier on my lap, I remembered the day in 1992 when I went to the ASPCA in uptown Manhattan looking for cat. It was Thanksgiving weekend, and I was living in Brooklyn having just graduated from college. Oscar was friendly and sweet even though his kennel card pronounced him "not good with other cats" (so true!). I brought Oscar home on the subway in a cardboard cat carrier. And for the next 13 years, Oscar was a part of my life. His weighty, stable presence was always a comfort.
R.I.P., my dear sweet friend. May you have Rottweilers to beat up on in Kitty Heaven and endless windows filled with sunshine and warm pillows.
