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DeathByCelery's Journal
I'm DeathByCelery. I don't know...my journal's probably going to be kind of random. Please feel free to comment. I'll write about topics such as... *Things that piss me off *Things that make me happy *Noteable happenings *My dreams-I LOVE to drea
Well, Precious is home. She’s alive, but that’s about it. She has brain damage. She just walks around in circles in her cage, walking through any obstacle that’s in her way, including food water, or feces, if she went to the bathroom. When she gets in her walking mode, you can pick her up and her legs still won’t stop moving. She’ll claw the hell out of you because she’ll just keep trying to walk, and can’t really control her claws. She has balance issues and walks like she’s had a few too many drinks. Her one front leg doesn’t work as well as the other either. She can eat, but not properly. She shoves her whole face in the food, and gets it crusted all over her nose, whiskers, and eyebrows. I also don’t think she really has a concept of when she’s hungry anymore, because she’ll usually just eat whenever she comes in contact with the food. A big problem we’re having is that she knows how to eat, but not drink. We’ve been giving her water with an eyedropper, but I’m sure she’s not being hydrated enough because it’s very hard to get her to take any water. She fights against the eyedropper, and sometimes lets any water we do get in her mouth just run out. Lately we’ve been giving her milk because she’ll drink that more willingly, and we’re trying to keep her from getting constipated. At least it gives her some kind of hydration. She doesn’t really look at you anymore, or anything for that matter. She just stares into space and her eyes seem vacant. We’re not sure if she’s seeing anything at all, actually. Her eyes still work, so she’s not blind in that manner, but we’re not sure if her brain registers sight anymore. Another issue is that she no longer has a concept of the litter box. She just goes to the bathroom wherever. It’s so heartbreaking to watch. We brought her inside in an attempt to give her a better life, but instead we just royally ******** her up. I prayed so hard for her to pull through and make it, and I guess my prayers were literally answered, for she’s alive, but she was not returned the same. She’s just a shell of the cat she used to be, just the automatic living functions (and not even all of those) of a cat, and none of the personality. It literally is one big ******** joke. I bet God is having a grand old time laughing at the knee slapper he pulled with this one. I just don’t get why her life doesn’t seem meant to be. She was sickly outside, and there is a good chance she would have died anyways if we had left her outside, but we were trying to prevent that, and this happened. I truly think death would have been better than this though. I feel so guilty that we did this to this kitten. There’s no way around it, it’s our fault. The main thing is that we could have taken her to the vet earlier to prevent this. But since it happened, I guess the brain damage is still our fault because we insisted on saving her. Isn’t it ******** ridiculous that by the time we found her, the right thing had went from doing everything to save her life to doing nothing and letting her pass? I can’t get out of my head just how big of a ******** joke this whole thing really is. I’m going to have to live with this guilt the rest of my life. In short of being brain damaged like her, nothing can erase this from my mind. There is always going to be this weight in my chest for what I have done. Though I should always feel guilty, and I really should pay dearly for what I’ve done, or looking at it the other way, didn’t do. It’s hard to believe having low blood sugar can ******** you up that much. Right now my mother and I are waiting at least a couple of weeks to see if she makes any improvements in her condition. If she doesn’t, we may have to put her down. I really don’t want to do that, it still feels like murder, and I do love her, but it might be the most merciful thing to do for her. At the state she’s in right now, she’d never be able to live outside the dog crate we keep her in now. We can’t let her roam the house because she would s**t and piss anywhere and everywhere. Also, with her “autopilot walking” status, if she came in contact with anything dangerous, such as stairs, she would just keep walking, tumbling right down them. Plus, she can’t even drink on her own right now. If she doesn’t relearn how to do that, we’d have to be hydrating her with an eyedropper for the rest of her life, and I don’t know how long she can even sustain life like that. Giving her water or milk isn’t that big of a deal right now because I’m home all day, but in less than a month I’m going to be starting college, so I won’t be home all day. She’d have to go hours without any liquids. I just don’t see how it’s going to work. Honestly, I think I probably should have to take care of her the rest of her life. It’s a pain in the a** to provide all the care she needs and clean up after her all the time, so it would be a sort of punishment for me to bear the burden. After all the s**t that’s happened this summer, I seriously feel like I’ll never do anything right or feel good about anything again. What if this is just a taste of what’s to come? What if my whole life is just going to be one s**t storm, one heartbreak after another, and this is just the beginning? I really hope things start to turn around, even though I’ll probably feel like s**t the rest of my life. Last night I heard a quote that fits this situation. It’s “the best intentions can often cause the greatest harm.” We did have the best intentions with her, and we did end up causing the greatest harm. How very, very fitting indeed.





 
 
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