I like to think I am an optimistic person.
In fact, I sign all of my correspondence “With Optimism, Carin,” and I use “Chooses Optimism Daily” as a personal tagline. But, there are some days when it is just plain hard to be that optimistic person.
One year ago, we lost our house and three pets in a house fire. My youngest son was particularly devastated by the loss of the pets. It took quite a while for me to feel like we were on enough of an even keel to even consider getting him a new pet. I finally felt like it was time around his birthday in October, and we surprised him with the cutest little kitten ever. He named her Ashe.
She quickly became a part of our household. She loved to play, loved to cuddle, and would come running from across the house if she heard the ice cube machine.
As we put the presents around the tree last weekend, we noticed that she seemed to be sleeping more and playing less, but she didn’t act sick, so we thought it was maybe a growth spurt. She continued to be pretty sleepy during the week, but she was so content cuddling with all of us that it didn’t seem unusual. She still was playing and running after ice cubes.
She had a bit of bloating in her tummy toward the end of the week, but she didn’t seem sick. On Saturday, we took her to the vet to just have it checked out. We figured she was constipated or had eaten some wrapping paper. We thought it would be an hour at the vet and then we would be back home.
The vet diagnosed her with FIP, or Feline Infectious Peritonitis.
Apparently, this fatal disease is a mutation of a common virus and the mutation is more common in kittens and cats that come from shelters or catteries. We brought Ashe home from a cat rescue where there were many, many cats. Who knows how many of them will suffer this same fate?
So, our precautionary trip to the vet turned into something we never would have expected; another loss – on top of loss upon loss upon loss. Tears, anger, confusion, and grief have taken the place of my optimism. I cannot find a way to feel optimistic about watching my kids experience loss again. They don’t trust relationships as it is. And they were just starting to feel a sense of equilibrium after a year and a half of turmoil.
Pets hold a special place in our lives and in our hearts. Losing a pet is never easy and the memory of the loss never really fades. In some ways, we love our pets more truly, more deeply, and more authentically than we love the people in our lives because we take off our masks and show our true selves to our pets. And there is no judgment from them.
I will find my sense of optimism again: I do believe that we can choose our attitude. And the love that we are able to give and receive, even if only for a brief time, is always worth it in the end. That is what I will tell my boys, and hopefully, someday they will be able to believe it.
With optimism, Carin
