Feed on

Our cat Chester passed at 16 in April of this year.  Now I see rickety, arthritic Maggie considering her options.  She’s not lonely or waiting to be with Chet–she digs being the only cat.  It’s the kidneys. Always with the %$#@ kidneys.

Chester launched his decline with some infection or another.  It unfolded smoothly.  I found myself driving home from the vet’s office thinking hey, is he getting ready to pass?

Chester taught the master class in Helping Your Pet Die.  He took the meds, he gave the love.  He answered the questions and coordinated his passing to coincide with our vet’s schedule.   We discussed his passing every day for two weeks.  I knew what he wanted and he knew the decisions were his to make.  He helped me help him.

He’d hardly been dead an hour when I got the big Gift:  he told me something that transformed the way I see myself.  It was a happy and meaningful passing.

Now Maggie has an infection.  It’s a whopper.  Her breath is foul and her cheek, swollen.  Sunday morning she asked to go to the ER so off we went.  A nice man prescribed antibiotics and pain meds.  When the assistant administered them I held her legs while she tried to kill us.  She scratched Kim.  She growled.

I took her home in dread.  This wasn’t going to be easy.

The meds–two of them–are liquids and have to be administered through the mouth on the not-so-swollen side.  The big dose is only .87 ml but it felt like a gallon going in.  It sprayed around the room, it spattered.  Maggie spit and hacked.  When we let go she fled underneath the nightstand.  She stayed there all night.  She growled when I approached her.

This went on for another 24 hours then I came to my senses.  She lay squashed under the nightstand.  I prepped for a reading.

She showed me a past life in which she’d been wounded.  When her person tried to help, she associated the human touch as the source of her pain and rejected the help.  She was still hauling that association around as baggage so we cleared it.  Next we looked at her agreements.

Animals come to us as healers.  Even a very ill pet will endeavor to complete her agreements but it uses precious energy the cat needs for herself.  We cleared Chester’s agreements at the end of his life and it appeared to lighten his load so Maggie and I decided to do the same.

At the end of the reading I explained the difference between causing pain and trying to relieve it.

Some hours passed then she wiggled out of hiding.  It was against the rules but I let her sit in her beloved garden for a couple hours.  She watched the world go by, it was all very normal.  Then it was time for the meds.

Giving them was so easy it’s not worth describing.  Next she sat politely for her IV fluids.  Just sat there.  Then a snack and off to bed.  Huh.

Is this a fluke, or a new trend?   We’ll find out .  .  .








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