While taking my one surviving cat to the vet for his annual checkup, I have many bouts of mental anguish. First, the cat carrier I have still has a label on it from my other cat. The one who did not survive. I almost came to tears when I saw the label. Second, Survivor Cat HATES the cat carrier. And he hates the car. The car he has to ride in for about an hour to get to the vet. He meows. Constantly. So for the last hour, I’ve had my heart ripped out with every meow. I feel like a monster because Non-Surviving cat passed shortly after his last vet visit. Gah!!!!
Aaaand the vet tells me he needs more tests. The vet is trying to yank on the heartstrings of a loving put owner and milk her for as much as she possibly can. Or that’s what it feels like. There comes a point where every loving pet owner questions what will be worse for the pet, more and more invasive tests and possibly medicine to prolong the pet’s life for, what, a year?-while possibly being in misery for that last year and not being able to communicate that because they don’t speak Human? Or let the pet live out his natural life as happy and healthy as possible until time finally does what time does and steals what we love regardless what we try to do.