{"id":1391,"date":"2014-03-05T09:42:39","date_gmt":"2014-03-05T16:42:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/?p=1391"},"modified":"2014-03-05T09:42:39","modified_gmt":"2014-03-05T16:42:39","slug":"how-much-do-you-love-him","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/archives\/1391","title":{"rendered":"How Much Do You Love Him?"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"How<\/a><\/p>\n

Django on Marcia’s Lap<\/em><\/p>\n

(This article appeared in the Anderson Valley Advertiser<\/em> March 2014)<\/p>\n

\u201cThe story of cats is the story of meat, and begins with the end of the dinosaurs.\u201d Elizabeth Marshall Thomas<\/i><\/p>\n

Our cat Django is a very large and handsome gray cat, or as our veterinarian said politely, \u201cShall we call him obese?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut he hasn\u2019t gained<\/i> any weight for several years,\u201d we hastened to explain. \u201cHe\u2019s holding steady at twenty pounds and a little.\u201d<\/p>\n

The good doctor of cats and dogs was not greatly impressed by our feat of maintaining the status quo of Django\u2019s enormity. We had rushed our twelve-year-old kitty to the one and only veterinarian office in the village of Mendocino because he was in severe distress, which turned out to be the result of urinary tract and kidney difficulties that could, sooner than later, lead to his death if we don\u2019t start feeding him special expensive food or unless, as our vet explained, Django undergoes an operation to eliminate the problem entirely by turning him into a female in regard to how he urinates.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much do you love him?\u201d said our vet, smiling sympathetically. \u201cSuch an operation costs around fifteen hundred dollars. The better diet and shedding some weight should do the trick for some years, though if he is blocked again, then short of surgery we would have to catheterize and hospitalize him for three days, after which he could have another episode, so cost can become an issue for some people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat would be us,\u201d I said, not entirely comfortable with equating the willingness to spend money and love, but I knew our vet was trying to be clear and up front about how much various procedures cost, and we appreciated his candor.<\/p>\n

In any case, the vet bill certainly gave us pause, pun intended. For the emergency visit, urine analysis, blood analysis, antibiotic injection, painkiller injection, ten cans of special food, and kitty litter so we could keep the big fatso inside for a couple days while he recovered from his ordeal, our cost was three hundred and forty-two dollars. How much do we love our cat? That much. So far.<\/p>\n

Then there is the problem of Django\u2019s broken tooth. \u201cExtractions of this nature,\u201d said our vet, \u201ccan run from five hundred to a thousand dollars. If you don\u2019t have the tooth removed, infection may ensue resulting in abscess, in which case dental work would be imperative or\u2026\u201d How much do we love this cat?<\/p>\n

\u201cA veterinarian and cat specialist, Dr. Richard Thoma, trying to locate a cat\u2019s purr with a stethoscope, found that the sound was equally loud all over.\u201d Elizabeth Marshall Thomas<\/i><\/p>\n

When I was a landscaper forty years ago, I lived in a bunkhouse adjacent to my boss\u2019s house on the outskirts of Medford Oregon. My boss and his wife grew up on farms in Kansas and considered cats semi-wild animals to be tolerated around their two-acre homestead because the cats kept the rodent population in check. Every year or two, when the resident cat population became overly robust, my boss would gather up all but the best hunters and the most elusive cats and drown them.<\/p>\n

I thought about this matter-of-fact drowning of kittens and cats as Marcia handed her credit card to the vey nice receptionist at our excellent village veterinarian clinic, and I thought of a photo essay I saw recently of cat meat vendors in China selling both live and butchered cats to eager shoppers in an open air market. And though I have no desire to drown or eat Django, that\u2019s where my thoughts wandered when I thought of three hundred and forty-two dollars suddenly disappearing from our bank account, with further Django-related expenses looming on the not-too-distant horizon.<\/p>\n

\u201cPeople who have both dogs and cats can verify the statement: when called, the common response of dogs is to come, and of cats is to answer.\u201d Elizabeth Marshall Thomas<\/i><\/p>\n

That afternoon in the post office, I fell into conversation with a friend who responded to my emotional account of the Django crisis by telling me the story of her parents\u2019 beloved and also impressively heavyset cat Hercules, who suffered from the identical malady Django suffers from, with costs of dealing with such urinary kidney problems eventually outstripping her parents\u2019 devotion to the cat.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was that really cold wet winter a few years ago, and their roof was leaking badly, towels and buckets catching drips everywhere, the roofers supposed to come that afternoon, and there they were standing in the examining room looking down at big old Hercules sitting on the table with the vet petting the sweet old thing and waiting for them to choose between a dry house and the cat.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEven being fed by a person must seem like old times to a cat, because of the person\u2019s manner of delivering food. A person characteristically puts down a dish of food and moves away from it, offering plenty of space, which invites the cat to approach and eat. In the same way, a hunting mother cat puts down the dead bird she has brought, backing away from it to show that she will not compete for the carcass and that her kitten can approach.\u201d Elizabeth Marshall Thomas<\/i><\/p>\n

Save for a few brief stretches in my life\u2014sixty-four years and counting\u2014I\u2019ve always had a cat or two and they\u2019ve had me. Their personalities and propensities have been as varied as those of humans, and their intelligence quotas have been variable, too, ranging from clairvoyant geniuses to barely functional idiots. And until today, I never spent more than a few dollars on veterinary care for any of my cats, largely because I didn\u2019t have the money and I wasn\u2019t partnered with someone willing to spend hundreds of dollars to keep a cat alive. Most of my cats lived long and healthy lives, but one died young from feline leukemia, three were hit by cars, and one was snatched by a coyote. My sister\u2019s beautiful young cat was plucked from her terrace by a hawk.<\/p>\n

Thinking back and remembering Chubs and Girly Girl and Suzy Cat and Boy Boy and Bucky and Pele and Juju, I realize that part of their collective appeal was that they were largely independent from me and didn\u2019t need much more than sufficient food and warmth and occasional shows of affection. They did not, in fact, cost hardly anything considering all the pleasure and help they gave me, and if they had<\/i> cost very much, I would not have so blithely taken them on as one does with cats when one is in the habit of having them and being had by them.<\/p>\n

\u201cLong ago, around the southern shores of the Mediterranean, little African wildcats took shelter in people\u2019s dwelling places, probably finding the supply of mice and rats and the escape from heavy rains much to their liking. There they stayed. Perhaps they even liked the warmth of people\u2019s fires. The earliest cat known is from Jericho (now Israel) nine thousand years ago when one of the few amenities that people had that might attract a cat was fire.\u201d Elizabeth Marshall Thomas<\/i><\/p>\n

Our mighty federal government grants me six hundred and eighty-four dollars a month from Social Security, and we just gave exactly half that amount to our veterinarian to save Django\u2019s life. Two weeks ago our healthcare insurance provider Anthem Blue Cross, seeing that I will turn sixty-five in seven months and Marcia will turn sixty-five in a year, decided to jack up our insurance rates nearly three hundred dollars a month to extract as much more money from us as they possibly can before we graduate to Medicare.<\/p>\n

So to save a little money, we made the leap to Obamacare, and lo it came to pass that under the new healthcare system we will be covered by, wouldn\u2019t you know it, Anthem Blue Cross and pay them a little more than the usurious sum we were paying them before<\/i> they jacked up our rates to ever more dizzying heights, except under Obamacare our deductible is so high it would be laughable if it were not obscene.<\/p>\n

Meanwhile, Django is lolling by the fire, fully recovered from his painful ordeal and blissfully unaware that if we hadn\u2019t spent a big wad of cash, he would probably be looking for a dark place to curl up and die.<\/p>\n

I rub his ample belly and say, \u201cHang in there, Django. Another seven months and I\u2019ll be getting Medicare, otherwise known as Single Payer, which is what everyone in America would have if not for the crooks running our government. Then we\u2019ll have a bit more money should you need some help and we decide we love you enough.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Django on Marcia’s Lap (This article appeared in the Anderson Valley Advertiser March 2014) \u201cThe story of cats is the story of meat, and begins with the end of the dinosaurs.\u201d Elizabeth Marshall Thomas Our cat Django is a very large and handsome gray cat, or as our veterinarian said politely, \u201cShall we call him […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[2619,268,680,2614,2612,822,2617,2611,2613,157,2618,2620,374,9,2615,33,2616],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1391"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1391"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1391\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1394,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1391\/revisions\/1394"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1391"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1391"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1391"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}