The
thing about fairy tales is they always end with "happily ever after."
But how do you know where the beginning of a story ends and the "ever
after" takes over? Or maybe life's just a collection of many beginnings
and middles and ends, and no story ever really has its "ever after" --
there's always a new challenge to meet, new problems to solve, new
conclusions to reach, new happinesses to achieve....
My blog post about King Triton the three-legged cat went into its happily ever after a bit prematurely. Because it turns out King Triton (or Mr. Tripod, or Granderson, or SuperTurkeyColdcatMan -- his name still changes almost daily as we get to know him and his many different personalities) wasn't the fully ambulatory three-legged cat we were told he was. A happy, well-adjusted cuddlebug who slept on the bed and jumped up for nose kisses his first day and a half here, he's gone progressively downhill until he's now an immobile cat who can't drink or eat without being brought his bowls and who peed on the futon last night. For days, we've been trying to figure out what's wrong. We took him to the shelter's medical center, where they said he was just having trouble adjusting. I said no, I've seen cats having trouble adjusting; this wasn't that. He hadn't even peed in days. Was he terrified of walking on our hardwood floors after a few slips and slides? Had he never really adjusted to the three legs and once the adrenaline of a new place wore off he was too scared to try here? Were his legs hurting him? Was he ill? Two vets gave him an all-clear physically. He's just stressed, they said. Nothing wrong with him physically, they said.
There were tears daily as we tried to figure out our options. If we returned him to the shelter, they would just put him up for adoption again, without listening to us that he needed foster care or physical therapy or something more intensive first -- meaning he'd go to another home that couldn't give him the life he deserved and he'd become an immobile cat who couldn't possibly live a long, healthy life. But we couldn't possibly care for a bedridden cat ourselves. How could we get SuperTurkeyColdcatMan (his name of the day because we discovered he becomes brave and energetic and turns into a superhero whenever he eats turkey cold-cuts) the special care this special boy needs and deserves? I knew we couldn't keep him if this was how he acted in our apartment, but it brought me to tears to think that I had brought him into the wrong home and unintentionally perhaps caused this pain he was going through, and that I had no way to fix him.
My blog post about King Triton the three-legged cat went into its happily ever after a bit prematurely. Because it turns out King Triton (or Mr. Tripod, or Granderson, or SuperTurkeyColdcatMan -- his name still changes almost daily as we get to know him and his many different personalities) wasn't the fully ambulatory three-legged cat we were told he was. A happy, well-adjusted cuddlebug who slept on the bed and jumped up for nose kisses his first day and a half here, he's gone progressively downhill until he's now an immobile cat who can't drink or eat without being brought his bowls and who peed on the futon last night. For days, we've been trying to figure out what's wrong. We took him to the shelter's medical center, where they said he was just having trouble adjusting. I said no, I've seen cats having trouble adjusting; this wasn't that. He hadn't even peed in days. Was he terrified of walking on our hardwood floors after a few slips and slides? Had he never really adjusted to the three legs and once the adrenaline of a new place wore off he was too scared to try here? Were his legs hurting him? Was he ill? Two vets gave him an all-clear physically. He's just stressed, they said. Nothing wrong with him physically, they said.
There were tears daily as we tried to figure out our options. If we returned him to the shelter, they would just put him up for adoption again, without listening to us that he needed foster care or physical therapy or something more intensive first -- meaning he'd go to another home that couldn't give him the life he deserved and he'd become an immobile cat who couldn't possibly live a long, healthy life. But we couldn't possibly care for a bedridden cat ourselves. How could we get SuperTurkeyColdcatMan (his name of the day because we discovered he becomes brave and energetic and turns into a superhero whenever he eats turkey cold-cuts) the special care this special boy needs and deserves? I knew we couldn't keep him if this was how he acted in our apartment, but it brought me to tears to think that I had brought him into the wrong home and unintentionally perhaps caused this pain he was going through, and that I had no way to fix him.
After
his fifth day of not peeing, we took him back to the shelter's medical
center, insisting something was physically wrong... and the third vet
we saw finally confirmed we were right. Superturkeyman has a reason
for not being superhero brave all the time. Superturkeyman has a
spinal injury, probably caused by the same trauma that caused the multiple
fractures leading to his leg amputation, and aggravated by being more
active for the first time since his arrival at the shelter. So he
doesn't walk anymore because it hurts too much to walk, not because he's
anxious in a new setting. And the behavior department at the shelter
and two vets missed it.
We're
still waiting for a more complete report on his X-ray and for blood-work
results -- giving him painkillers in the meantime -- and if it turns
out to be a chronic condition that will leave him bedridden and in need
of medication for a long time, I'm afraid we can't afford to be the ones
around to watch him enjoy his happily ever after. But that's okay.
Because now I know we're not the reason he's in pain -- to the contrary,
we're the reason he's finally getting the help his condition needs.
We're the reason he got to see vet #3 who found the injury everyone else
overlooked. We're the reason he'll continue to get the care at the
shelter's medical center he needs rather than turning into an unhealthy
couch potato... rather than some adopter thinking he peed in the wrong place
because he's dumb or mad and punishing him. We came into each other's
lives for a reason, and not being able to keep him doesn't mean we've
been a failure to him.
With
a little bit of luck and a little bit of fairy dust and a whole lot of
love, hopefully we'll be the reason SuperTurkeyColdcatMan can become royal King Triton one day and get his happily ever after.
Because we love him.
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