Animal-related guilt
When I got Bill, I also got his two cats (littermates, about a year old). I've never been a cat person, but we seemed to reach a place of co-existence. When they had problems, I did research to figure out how to fix them. I don't think of them as my cats, but they made Bill happy so I did what I could to keep them healthy and content.
Now I am actively disliking them, due to their puking/shitting/underfoot issues, and we are getting to the point where I don't think Bill is liking them very much, either.
We just moved to partly freeze-dried raw food, which is freaking expensive, but it gives us a break from processing all the raw chicken. Bill is cleaning their two litterboxes daily in an attempt to deal with their aversion to used boxes. Denny's hips are weaker and she's been having issues with loose stools and losing her box training... she is shitting all over the house on any soft surface (mostly all the rugs but on occasion she hits furniture too). They eat too fast and puke their food immediately, so we are down to feeding them teeny meals many times a day. They have been to the vet several times and tested with no sign of any major health issues... and I am feeling distrustful of vets anyway, because of the years of steroids and medications and special (expensive) foods for the skin issues that were fixed instantly with the raw food diet, which the vet argued with even when we clearly had great results.
They used to spend most of their daytime naps on our bed, but you guessed it... another shitting "accident" on my duvet and down throw. They are now banned from the bedroom.
One keeps getting underfoot and tripping us (mostly me, because I am home the most, but he's gotten all of us at one time or another). It's caused me several near-falls, and one bad fall that caused me to break one of the kitchen chairs from my grandmother. I've already broken my arm from a fall, and I am constantly worried about another (especially when I'm home alone with Linc).
This morning, I came out to a puddle of puke on my office chair. It soaked in all night. I cleaned it as best as I could, and now the chair is out in the sun. That incident is what spurred this entry.
I know a lot of this is age-related. They are 14 years old, they're healthy and likely to be around for years longer. They are thankfully continent with their urine (we are renters... there is no way we could allow cat urine to wreck this house). But I am reaching the end of my rope with the shit and puke all over the place. There is no rug in the house they have not shat upon multiple times, but the "accidents" seem random. Denny's hips are weak, but she doesn't seem in pain... she's fine for jumping up for sunbeams and birdwatching. I know more catboxes would supposedly help the problem, especially if we had them upstairs, but truthfully there is NO place to put one on the upper floor of this tiny house. I don't want to confine them to the basement because they would concentrate their accidents on Cordell's things, as well as the fact that there are no windows for birdwatching/sunbeams down there.
They are indoor cats. The few times we tried the indoor-outdoor thing, there were Bad Consequences (Cil vanished for a month, and he also got repeated abscesses from fighting), and I also honestly believe letting domestic cats outdoors is a really bad idea, for the local wildlife and for the cats themselves. I feel VERY annoyed when other people's cats dig and shit in my plants, hunt birds from my bird feeder, kill baby rabbits and leave the remains scattered on my porch... I don't want to be that person. It's also no good for the cat... poison (and poisoned animals), cars, malicious kids, abscesses... and the accompanying vet bills. No thanks.
A year ago, I was agonizing over losing my dog slowly to his brain disease. When his body began to break down as well, signaled by the loss of his urinary continence, we took the terrible, merciful step of putting him to sleep. It was honestly one of the very worst things I've ever had to do, and to this day I still second-guess myself... did I rush it because of feeling inconvenienced by his accidents, or was it really the right time? Gah. I still feel sick whenever I remember that day.
But I have no such attachment to these cats, and we are putting up with worse messes. I will do my best to make sure they are not in pain, and that they are as healthy as possible, for Bill's sake. But it is me who is feeding them and tripping over them and cleaning up the shit and puke and hairballs when Bill isn't here. I know it is wrong to consider euthanasia for inconvenience, but I wish I was at least getting something from this relationship. Denny used to kill rats and mice, for which I was grateful, but they haven't killed anything in years. Bill and Cord and Clay all enjoy letting them sit on their laps and petting them, but I don't (oh, I forgot to mention... I have seemed to develop a contact allergy to them too. If I touch the cats and then touch my face, I have watery itchy eyes for a few hours afterwards).
And now Bill is making "jokes" about how easy it would be to wring their necks, etc. I've had to remind him a few times not to say things like that near Lincoln, but it's clear that he's getting sick of dealing with all the mess too. I used to do yoga on the rug downstairs, but there have been so many "accidents" on it that it just feels gross to even go near it. The thought of lying down on it, even with my yoga mat, is nauseating.
I know they can't help it. They are old and their bodies are changing. Hell, I even empathize. But how long do we have to put up with this? What is my responsibility as a pet owner to them? If we had an easy out... if someone offered to let them live in a barn somewhere, or some crazy cat lady wanted them... I know we would let them go in a blink.
Any brilliant insights or words of wisdom from you all?
Now I am actively disliking them, due to their puking/shitting/underfoot issues, and we are getting to the point where I don't think Bill is liking them very much, either.
We just moved to partly freeze-dried raw food, which is freaking expensive, but it gives us a break from processing all the raw chicken. Bill is cleaning their two litterboxes daily in an attempt to deal with their aversion to used boxes. Denny's hips are weaker and she's been having issues with loose stools and losing her box training... she is shitting all over the house on any soft surface (mostly all the rugs but on occasion she hits furniture too). They eat too fast and puke their food immediately, so we are down to feeding them teeny meals many times a day. They have been to the vet several times and tested with no sign of any major health issues... and I am feeling distrustful of vets anyway, because of the years of steroids and medications and special (expensive) foods for the skin issues that were fixed instantly with the raw food diet, which the vet argued with even when we clearly had great results.
They used to spend most of their daytime naps on our bed, but you guessed it... another shitting "accident" on my duvet and down throw. They are now banned from the bedroom.
One keeps getting underfoot and tripping us (mostly me, because I am home the most, but he's gotten all of us at one time or another). It's caused me several near-falls, and one bad fall that caused me to break one of the kitchen chairs from my grandmother. I've already broken my arm from a fall, and I am constantly worried about another (especially when I'm home alone with Linc).
This morning, I came out to a puddle of puke on my office chair. It soaked in all night. I cleaned it as best as I could, and now the chair is out in the sun. That incident is what spurred this entry.
I know a lot of this is age-related. They are 14 years old, they're healthy and likely to be around for years longer. They are thankfully continent with their urine (we are renters... there is no way we could allow cat urine to wreck this house). But I am reaching the end of my rope with the shit and puke all over the place. There is no rug in the house they have not shat upon multiple times, but the "accidents" seem random. Denny's hips are weak, but she doesn't seem in pain... she's fine for jumping up for sunbeams and birdwatching. I know more catboxes would supposedly help the problem, especially if we had them upstairs, but truthfully there is NO place to put one on the upper floor of this tiny house. I don't want to confine them to the basement because they would concentrate their accidents on Cordell's things, as well as the fact that there are no windows for birdwatching/sunbeams down there.
They are indoor cats. The few times we tried the indoor-outdoor thing, there were Bad Consequences (Cil vanished for a month, and he also got repeated abscesses from fighting), and I also honestly believe letting domestic cats outdoors is a really bad idea, for the local wildlife and for the cats themselves. I feel VERY annoyed when other people's cats dig and shit in my plants, hunt birds from my bird feeder, kill baby rabbits and leave the remains scattered on my porch... I don't want to be that person. It's also no good for the cat... poison (and poisoned animals), cars, malicious kids, abscesses... and the accompanying vet bills. No thanks.
A year ago, I was agonizing over losing my dog slowly to his brain disease. When his body began to break down as well, signaled by the loss of his urinary continence, we took the terrible, merciful step of putting him to sleep. It was honestly one of the very worst things I've ever had to do, and to this day I still second-guess myself... did I rush it because of feeling inconvenienced by his accidents, or was it really the right time? Gah. I still feel sick whenever I remember that day.
But I have no such attachment to these cats, and we are putting up with worse messes. I will do my best to make sure they are not in pain, and that they are as healthy as possible, for Bill's sake. But it is me who is feeding them and tripping over them and cleaning up the shit and puke and hairballs when Bill isn't here. I know it is wrong to consider euthanasia for inconvenience, but I wish I was at least getting something from this relationship. Denny used to kill rats and mice, for which I was grateful, but they haven't killed anything in years. Bill and Cord and Clay all enjoy letting them sit on their laps and petting them, but I don't (oh, I forgot to mention... I have seemed to develop a contact allergy to them too. If I touch the cats and then touch my face, I have watery itchy eyes for a few hours afterwards).
And now Bill is making "jokes" about how easy it would be to wring their necks, etc. I've had to remind him a few times not to say things like that near Lincoln, but it's clear that he's getting sick of dealing with all the mess too. I used to do yoga on the rug downstairs, but there have been so many "accidents" on it that it just feels gross to even go near it. The thought of lying down on it, even with my yoga mat, is nauseating.
I know they can't help it. They are old and their bodies are changing. Hell, I even empathize. But how long do we have to put up with this? What is my responsibility as a pet owner to them? If we had an easy out... if someone offered to let them live in a barn somewhere, or some crazy cat lady wanted them... I know we would let them go in a blink.
Any brilliant insights or words of wisdom from you all?