The Truth of the Matter Is -

Here's the absolute truth about this whole situation. I blame myself.

I could never have children. I was born with a mushy, useless uterus. When I was 26 they removed it. I felt then that God was punishing me for not being a good Christian.

So I turned to pets. Dogs for a bit - but when my last dog was poisoned with anti-freeze by the foster kid who lived across the street - I couldn't imagine going through that anymore. The vets put that dog on IV too - just like Deeb - and it never made any difference then either.

We've always had cats in our family. Something that you could actually hold and cuddle - like a baby - a forever baby.

When I got these two cats - they were from the same litter. Deeb got so upset when I took his sister Dolly out of the cage to look at her. I couldn't separate the two because of it. Now Dolly is looking for her brother - and it's heartbreaking.

Deeb had kidney problems very early on. I use to get so mad at him for peeing on everything. Finally I realized he was in pain and had to pee - somewhere - anywhere.
I tried a naturopathic medicine to dissolve the kidney stones. It eventually got rid of the blood - but not the disease.

When he started to lose weight - I tried to ignore it. I didn't want the vet telling me that the end was near. I didn't want to take him there and frighten him - or worse - leave him. Which is what eventually happened. When 'The Man' first moved in - he was terribly allergic to cats. But he hugged them anyway. Deeb took to him - attached himself to him. Which was fine with me. Dolly has always been my favorite. More cuddly - wants more attention - sleeps with her head on my pillow - her little body tucked up against my chest.

And I was always the one who found the pee - and cleaned it up. Men just don't look for those kind of things - or wake up in the night when the cat howled with the pain of bloody urine.

When the vet said that Deeb was in extreme kidney failure - I started to pray. Having been brought up Baptist - I prayed to God. I prayed he would heal him - give him more time - more years to be specific - as I actually thought God would play a cruel trick and make it days if I wasn't specific. I prayed for a miracle - a miracle that I wouldn't tell anyone about - but just a miracle - to heal his kidneys and give him more years that we could share with him. I begged. I pleaded. Baptists can't offer to say Hail Marys or become priests. They can only feel guilty. So I admitted my guilt in my lapse of religion. I admitted I wasn't a good church-going person - but I did point out that I wasn't a bad person. And that I loved this special little creature through all of his problems and all of the damage he has done over almost 15 years. And I pointed out how much 'The Man' loved him. Do it at least for 'The Man' - who has to be the 'goodest' person that I know of.

But - it didn't work. God must be busy with Christmas and all that.

Not only am I feeling 'beyond sad' - I'm feeling guilty. Guilty for not having spent $2000.00 three years ago for the vet to send him to the big city where they would operate and remove the stones (but they wouldn't be able to get rid of the disease).

I'm feeling guilty that I couldn't have children.

I'm feeling guilty about yelling at Deeb when he peed on the curtains and all the other places. (it became harder to find as his urine eventually lost all its smell-and finally he didn't do it anymore - and stupid me thought he was all better).

I feel guilty for not being able to take him to the vets and making 'The Man' do it - and then watching his heart shatter.

I feel guilty that I couldn't make myself go visit him when he was at the vet's for 3 days on IV - and all alone. I didn't want him to think we had abandoned him - but I couldn't go in there.

I feel guilty that 'The Man' had to have him put out of his agony - which has added to ours. And I feel guilty that I can't take 'The Man's' pain away - because I'm being too selfish about my own.

Some will say - it was only a cat. And in reply I say - no - he was our child - one of our babies.

I feel like my ambivalence towards a religion that shoves God down your throat has proved that God will turn around and bite you in the ass for having looked away. This will raise a furor in the realms of the religious - but I feel like I've paid my dues so many times over - that I could've been given one tiny break. And right now I'm thinking that maybe I can only get one and I better not waste it....so be careful.

In a few days I will feel better. Still sad - but better. I don't think the guilt will go away - as I'm pretty good at flogging myself. Probably from the years of the mental and physical floggings I've endured...but I'm still good at it.

I would rather go to sleep and dream of how happy 'The Man' looked holding Deeb up against his chest as Deeb tucked his head under the big guy's chin and purred loud enough to fill the room. He never purred for me - just for 'The Man'....and that was okay - it made 'The Man' extremely happy.

Perhaps I should be thankful for the years we had with Deeb. But all I keep saying is that it's cruel that they live for so short a time.

Why put angels among us if they are only going to be yanked back home again?

I look at Dolly and remember I use to think - Well there is Dolly - where is Deeb? Now I look at Dolly and see a huge empty space where her brother lived and loved. And I see a huge empty space in my heart where sorrow and guilt compete with each other.

This is the truth - the whole truth - and nothing but the truth. So help me God.