Oh how money matters
I’m not sure how old Felix was when we had him killed. I know it wasn’t old enough to feel right. Probably somewhere between 12 and 14. Also not sure exactly what was wrong with him. The obvious was that he’d stopped eating much and also stopped moving around. He was normally a little pudgy. Fat even. And while he never really enjoyed being held and only rarely deigned to sit on a lap, he definitely followed me from room to room and liked to sit near enough to touch if not be fully leaned up against me. Towards the end he barely moved throughout the day. Maybe just once or twice unless we forced him.
I wasn’t poor. I didn’t think I was poor. I’d been working at the shipyard for years. I may have even already been a supervisor. I can’t remember for sure. But the tests to maybe find out what was wrong were expensive. I knew there was no way I could justify paying for whatever the treatment ended up being. He was just a cat. Cats are pets. They aren’t people.
Gesi was not going to let go of Phoebi without a fight. So much medicine. So many vets. But she paid for it all. I did my best not to think about it. I was more upset about the time and distance it put between us than the money. I was jealous. She loved that cat. Stupid of me. I loved the cat too. But I’d told myself Felix was just a pet. So, Phoebi was just a pet too.
Five (Six? Seven?) years on and now Minsky is the old man. One morning I didn’t close the door all the way after feeding one of the strays on the porch and he got out. Potentially exposed to who knows what diseases outside cats might have. Well shit. We have pretty much tried to pretend that vets aren’t real since Phoebi passed. Eggshells cover the verbal floor surrounding all topics that might lead to pain. Can’t get out of it this time though.
Wilson is the stray. So called in homage to Tim the Tool Man’s neighbor since the top half of his face was often spotted looking through our windows. Too nice to not catch and take in for testing. I didn’t even blink. “Yeah do it all, better to know.” Hyperthiroidism? Oh it’s just a one time treatment of radiation and then he’s probably going to be ok? Sure. No problem.
Money matters.