Casey's Tribute, Part II

Editor's Note: This post represents a daily journal I am writing as a tribute to my 15-year-old cat, Casey. I learned on Tuesday, January 6, that he has advanced leukemia and liver disease and has been given no more than a month to live. The ongoing posts from the journal not only serve as a tribute to Casey – and a resource for readers who are pet enthusiasts – but they also provide personal therapy during a trying time.

Obviously, this series will not replace the daily baseball posts. After all, the Red Sox, Yankees and baseball are what Sox and Pinstripes is all about, and Hot Stove League action is increasing. Yet, on occasion, we do post personal essays about subjects not related to baseball, but focusing on human interest. If you are a pet enthusiast who understands and embraces first-hand the human-animal bond, I encourage you to read every word. You can read all posts related to this series by visiting the Categories section on the right-hand side of Sox and Pinstripes and scrolling down to "Casey's Tribute." To read my baseball story about Casey, scroll down to the first post, dated January 7.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

As a writer – through research and interviews for the thousands of articles I have written, and press releases I have crafted – I have learned a little about a lot. For example, I have written several stories about health and fitness, and I know what I should be doing to stay fit and healthy, but instituting what I know is another story. My personal experience with the death of a pet is similar. I have written about it and read about it – and I have lost two dogs and two cats before the pending passing of Casey – yet that does not make what I am going through right now easier.

If you share a similar fondness for animals, you know that a pet becomes part of the family. A pet is not just a pet. He is a consistent positive aspect of your life. Regardless of what is happening in your career, your personal life, with your health or any other part of your daily living, your pet provides constant unconditional friendship, companionship and love. No wonder multiple studies have shown that owning a pet – and the simple act of petting a cat or a dog – helps reduce your blood pressure and adds years to your life. I think about how much better the world would be if it was filled with people who show the compassion, loyalty and friendship of a cat or a dog.

Today, Casey has shown moments of spunk - breathing in the cool air on the screened porch (it was 70 here in central Florida this afternoon) and moving swiftly at the sound of a can of cat food opening. However, he is only eating a small amount of food, and his energy level is low. Though he is able to walk slowly, to preserve his strength I am carrying him when I head into my home office, or back into the bedroom. I thought about taking him to the veterinarian today for subcutaneous fluids, but I decided to wait until tomorrow morning because he did have fluid treatment on Monday.

I am especially cherishing every minute I am spending with Casey, knowing that tomorrow, or even the next hour, he might be gone. I would prefer that he pass away peacefully and painlessly in his sleep. I was present at the euthanasia of one of my childhood dogs, and Whitey (who was Casey’s housemate and friend, and possessed a similar gentle and affectionate personality). I would rather that Casey take his last breathe naturally, but I will not be selfish and keep him around if he is suffering.

Choosing to have a pet euthanized is the most difficult decision an animal lover faces. It is heartwrenching, even when you know it is the right thing to do. But exercising that decision represents one final act of love. After all, if I kept Casey (or any current or future pet) alive just so I could delay the heartache of his death, I would not be a loyal friend in return.