So once again I am faced with the reality of a very sick cat. It seems like we just got though the trials of Jack’s near-fatal vaccination reaction, his asthma diagnosis and recovery on daily meds, the kittens neutering and spaying and their dangerous reactions to certain vaccinations and surgical anesthesia and subsequent recoveries. There were way too many goddamned sleepless nights involved with all of that.
Now Spot is showing very clear signs that he, too, has asthma or some form of life-threatening breathing disorder. He will need vet care that I clearly cannot afford. I have already spent in excess of $7,000.00 so far on the medical care for these 4 cats. My TOTAL yearly income from Social Security is $21,900. That’s 31% of my income spent on vet care so far.
When I am NOT dealing with sick cats I am cleaning-up the shit and piss from my housemates dog, who apparently believes my home is her toilet. Tonight I had to throw out my indoor front door mat because it was covered in shit and piss. In fact, I have had to remove all rugs from my home, one by one, because of this and so now the only small rugs I have are in the studio for the cats. My studio is gated so the dog cannot gain access.
I am at the end of my patience and resources.
I cannot sit down and create for more than 10 minutes without some fucking new bullshit breaking-out here. I am stressed-out, constantly either anxious or depressed and am getting way too little sleep.
So, no drawings or creative work are getting done in the studio. No work in Second Life is getting done. And don’t even fucking expect me to be social at this point.
Here’s the thing – I did NOT want another cat after Oscar died. I wanted my life to be freed-up so I could travel if I wanted to. I had to take care of Oscar’s pancreatitis for 13 years, endless vet visits and medications. Before him I had 30 years of OTHER sick cats that needed constant medical care as well. My whole fucking life has been centered around taking care of sick cats. At least when I was making $65K a year I could afford it.
I didn’t want another cat. I sure as fuck did not want FOUR other cats. I detest having to beg for donations, I find it demeaning and embarrassing. I don’t like having to choose between paying vet bills or buying groceries.
I don’t want ANY of this and I do not know why the Universe keeps throwing it at me.
As I am writing this tonight I just want to pack a small bag, get in my car and drive as far away from this house as I can, as far away as possible from these constantly sick cats and the dog who thinks my home is her toilet – to just keep driving and never, ever, ever come back.
Until next time …