Pumpkin

I found out a couple days ago that my cat has diabetes.

In one sense I'm glad because it's an answer to what has been troubling him lately, but in another I feel distressed because I know the treatments are more than we can afford or feasibly handle right now.

We live in a time and country where some people will spend a fortune on pets even when they're not chronically ill. It's a sad fact of life that in some areas of the world, pets get better medical treatment than people in other areas of the world.

So yes, he's not a person, he's a cat, and we know his lifespan is short to begin with. But that doesn't change the fact that he's important to me. Obviously our time and long-term financial health are important too, but still, this cat was my friend before I had a family of my own. Clearly I'm torn.

But the more I think about it, the more I realize that to a cat, the methods used to control this illness (needles, daily injections and monitoring, more vet visits, etc.) are rather contrary to his desired mode of living, and he would never understand them. He wouldn't know why I was constantly having to hurt him and not letting him go outside. He might even come to fear me because of all the needles. I suppose some other things in this house are contrary to his desires, but that's beside the point.

The point is, for an animal, he has had a good life. And I want him to continue having a good life, which in this case, I believe, means comfort care. I want him to fully enjoy whatever time he has left, and when it comes to the point where he can't do that anymore, I don't want him to suffer. I really don't think that months and possibly years full of needles and medication are the right choice for us.

He's at least eight years old... I knew it had to happen eventually, and I guess I'd rather have warning. Still, it's a sad thing. He's been with me for five years. I hope he can stay around a lot longer, but if he doesn't, I want to make his last months as loving as possible.

I'm okay

At times I come to realize a taste of the true privilege of owning a vehicle - just coming home in the evening and leaving it down there in the lot - this monster of mechanics and metal that is worth over a thousand dollars (I think), and yet is fully mine, and gets me safely where I want to go. And when I come down in the morning, it's right there. I turn a key, get inside, and can go anywhere I want to. Well, I go to work. But theoretically, ya know.

And yet how quick I am to complain that "Oh, it's cold! The heater takes so long to warm up! Ugh, I have to spend two minutes of my life scraping ice off the windshield! Sheesh, my rear window is so dirty - why can't I have a functioning rear windshield wiper?" I'm such a spoiled brat. Really. And I should be able to realize this more often than just when a major disaster hits an impoverished country.

I am incredibly blessed. And too often I find it enough to just say that and be glad with it, but really, what's the point of a blessing if not to pass it along? Does God bless me because he just wants me to have a sheltered, quiet life, without too much danger, because I'm somehow more special than the people who don't live a life of such high privilege? No!

I would like to be able to do more than just pray and donate some cash - but I'm sure many others would too. I would really like to keep my heart open for more opportunities after this summer wraps up. I'm praying that my sponsored girls in Haiti are okay.

I remember reading a book called "Where we stand: class matters" in philosophy class, and the author talked about the ways people can rationalize not giving to the poor. Because, believe it or not, even people that you see as "rich" have people that they consider even richer than themselves. And the author contended that as long as we have people who we think make us "inferior" financially, we don't feel compelled to give much, because we feel that they should be doing it.

Comparison for the sake of rationalization, or shirking of responsibilities, is a bad thing. But comparison is kinda necessary sometimes, when I find myself getting too content with the wonderful life that I have.