In which I reveal that I have no soul whatsoever.

*sigh* Okay–first of all, I’m having a cat problem.

Dennis Quaid has been looking skankier and skankier–I finally caved and took him to the bank I mean the vets today, knowing that after fixing my PWT ticket, the last thing our bank account could take is a vet bill from hell. I told them seriously that although DQ is a definitely a million dollar kitty, the most we could afford right at this moment was $250. I was pretty much told that $250 MIGHT cover his first round of tests. They took a look at his teeth, told me that there was something ‘unusual’ about the lesions in his mouth, and I said, “Unusual sounds like at least $1500, and we can’t do that.” And I felt bad. I mean HORRIBLE. Because we can do that–but we’d have to give up vacation and a finished bathroom to do that. I looked at the kitty–and trust me folks, he’s a good kitty–and thought, “Is this what I’ve become? A mother who would sacrifice her cat so she can take the kids to San Diego?” Except, San Diego’s paid for, and the cat is not. We have been working our asses off not to open another credit card–mostly because we wouldn’t be able to make the payments, and I’m looking at my kitty, thinking about all of my short sightedness and all the things I could have not bought if it would have meant I’d have $1500 to pay for the damned cat’s dental work.

And I couldn’t face the decision today. I asked them for something that would ease his pain and help his immune system, thinking that most creatures, when faced with the loss of pain, will start healing themselves. I told them we’d meet back in a month and see if maybe a little bit of help might make all the difference. The vet looked at me like I was a horrible cat mommy, and I am, and I took the poor guy home–and then bathed him because he pissed himself in the cage–and started to wonder about how seriously screwed my priorities are.

Because I do have a royalty check coming in at the end of August that might (MIGHT) cover his dental work–but I was planning on putting it back in to the book business–either buying books for the book signing I’ve already committed to, (Horror-Con, 2008, Scottish Rite Temple, Sacramento CA, Sept. 26-27) or publishing Bitter Moon II–maybe both, since I’m probably making a profit from the investment in the books.

So I have a month of pain meds and antibiotics in which to decide if I’m a horrible awful person, or if I do have a soul after all.

And to make this dilemma even more fun? While I was laying the little kids down for their nap, the vet called, and told my older son that euthenasia was probably the best option. Now this sort of pissed me off, because shouldn’t mommy be the one telling Son that her selfish pursuit of her publishing dreams is going to result in a dead kitty? And seriously–the cat is STILL ALIVE. And yes, his teeth hurt him, but he’s still eating and he’s still drinking and he’s still getting around, and honestly? My feet hurt and I occasionally crap blood, but if anyone tried to put me down because these things aren’t getting better, I’d be seriously PISSED OFF–wouldn’t you?

So here I am–wondering how I’m going to pay for my next book, and feeling bad because that next book might mean one more pathetic body in our little weedy graveyard in the front of the house.

How did I get to be Doctor Death anyway? It’s not how I started out. I started out wanting a cat. I like cats. Cats are independent, and they’re affectionate and they’re entertainment. Until I had kids, I thought that cats were the world’s greatest nurturing commitment to the universe. But now I have kids, and it’s looking like that trip to San Diego might really trump the cat, and I’m not sure when my soul became negotiable for a chance to get the fuck out of town and buy more crap to trip over.

*sigh* Personally, I might want to consider a long term investment in a five-year’s supply of kitty morphine, because he sure was a happy camper when we gave him that, and I’m pretty sure that even addicting the cat to morphine is less expensive than anesthesia and dental surgery–besides the fact that the whole wad of illegal cash wouldn’t be due right before school starts and vacation starts and my first chance at infiltrating the local book circuit EVER is due. And a stoned kitty is better than a dead kitty, right?

The book store I’m aligned with has already put my name out on the net–not that it’s a big draw, mind you, but they’ve put themselves out for me, and that’s sort of an “I gave my word” thing. Who knows–maybe I’ll find a kitty drug pusher at Horror-Con–I mean, the Goddess has got to have a plan on this one, right? Because right now I am fresh out of options.

0 thoughts on “In which I reveal that I have no soul whatsoever.”

  1. Louiz says:

    How about starting a “donate” button on your Green Hills site?

    If it weren’t for the fact that my credit card right now is toast I would send you $5 to help the publishing – how about an international money order?

    (I know $5 isn’t going to make much difference, but it’s all I can afford right now)

  2. roxie says:

    If you had no soul, this wouldn’t bother you.

    The worst thing about loving living beings is that sooner or later they are going to die. No matter what you do, no matter how much you spend on him, he is not immortal.

    Meanwhile, you have a month’s worth of meds. Be good to him. He will let you know when he’s ready to go.

    This is never an easy thing. Never! You will always be second guessing yourself if you aren’t careful not to go there.

    The books are a business investment so you can get out of the school system and be more available for your whole family. The trip to San Diego is paid for. You are exercising an excellent compromise. And I get intimations that even if you spend 15 thou on the poor cat, it won’t help. I’m so sorry. Give Mr Quaid an ear rub for me.

  3. You’re not a bad Mommy, just one who has to make tough choices.

  4. Galad says:

    I agree with Roxie that you most definitely have a soul or you wouldn’t be struggling so with this decision.

    Your head already knows the book and vacation need to happen, your heart recoils from what that means. Keeping DQ comfortable and seeing how he does is a practical and humane choice until you are all ready to get go.

  5. Hello

    First of all, I’m from Germany and although I can read English perfectly well, my writing may contain some more or less grave errors. Please ignore it πŸ˜‰ I’m working on my language skills, it can only get better. (And, honestly, there is nothing that helps better than reading a very good book πŸ˜‰ )

    I know this sort of decision, although I didn’t have to make it myself – but I was there when my sister had to make it with her cat. It wasn’t something dental. The cat came home one day and had a serious injury in her spine – it was partly severed and affected her whole lower half.
    We suspect someone pulled her tail really hard or maybe it was an accident (I for myself cannot believe that a cat could manage THAT by herself πŸ™ )
    My sister did spend a lot of money, part of it in surgery. In the end, it didn’t help. The cat could walk again, at least sufficiently enough, even if jumping wasn’t possible, but couldn’t controll her digestive system anymore.
    It was a hard decision because she could have lived, but probably not LIVED. She loved to be outside and that was out of question. (Watching her moving through the room with what hardly resembled the normal walk of a cat was a painful sight) And of course, there was the issue of cleanig up after her all the time.

    Although I think in the end the neverending bills for a neverending treatment had a big impact on her decision, her living on her own only for a few years and still struggling with money, especially if the bill came unexspected and then got bigger than exspected.

    I really LOVED that cat, even if she wasn’t my own. I can’t get enough of those furry personalities, even if the like to make holes in my thighs (or whatever else they get under their paws at the moment) when I scratch them.

    Those decisions come sooner or later to everyone of us, especially if one owns pets. There is never an easy way out – and the truly heartless persons don’t even give a damn about it, nor a second thought. Maybe for them, it would be an easy decision.

    And then, veterinary medicine is not nearly on the same standart as humanitary medicine. It’s still in the middle ages in my opinion and therefore I have to agree with roxie – even if you spent a large amount of money, it probably wouldn’t help.

    My sister agreed to the shoot in the end. And although my first tought when I heard the news was to straggle her (at least a little bit… πŸ˜‰ ), I came to accept it relatively quickly – the reasoning was sound, after all. And I refuse to believe that she has no soul because of that decision. You should look again maybe it just hid because it was troubled to have to make such a difficult decision πŸ˜‰

    I hope you find a solution, maybe the affliction turns out to be not as bad as it seems? Good luck to that πŸ™‚

    By the way, I’m glad Bitter Moon 2 is considered for publication. I can guarantee I will buy it, and I surely can wait forever πŸ™‚ I mean, I have a teribble, atrociously terrible English we can’t have THAT, no? πŸ™‚


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