(Disclaimer: Permission to disclose the following information was granted by subject: Mikey. Also do not read this post if you are about to have supper.)
My cat (Mikey) has been sick for last year and half. He has been battling IBD (inflammatory bowel disease) and I’ve been informed that there is no cure. He’s 14 years old; if he was human, he could get discount seating on trains, airplanes and bus tickets. He’s never been an outdoor cat, and other than bat at flies on windows, he has never had any actual outdoor contact all his life.
Because of his IBD our household has been on constant alert for possible “accidents.” Even the slightest odor maybe another biohazard incident and so preparedness is number one priority throughout the day. You’ll learn quickly that carpets may not be ideal if you have a pet in the long run anyway. An “accident” can occur from either end. If you hear that ketchup bottle noise, he’s about to throw up. Because he has trouble keeping food down, he’s been losing some weight. Now he’s barely 7 lbs and has become frail. His backbone is so pointy, like a Stegosaurus.
Despite of all that, he’s my comfort. I envy his aloofness. His distant and yet occasionally- attentive manner indicates that he thinks and understands.
When I ask him, “What do you think?” without any context, he stares me back with a gentle purr and then goes back to napping.
Every now and then when escape is needed from my stressful life, I remind myself to be like Mikey, just relax and take the time to rest. To put it in Descartes's terms, for Mikey, life is; “I nap therefore I am.” I don’t know how much of his 9 lives he has spent (and from the look of it, he hasn’t left much) however I will always treasure Life with Mikey.
Oh, no. Mikey!!!!
-Yukio Kevin Iraha