Home Sweet Home

I just got back from a trip to the big apple. NYC. The most awesome place on earth. There was no point to the trip besides the fact that Virgin America had an airfare (San Francisco to JFK) that was too amazing to pass up. Never mind the million and one things I could do to improve my house (or my cat), I spent the money on a random trip to New York.

It was a short trip – only four days – but it was the sixth trip I’ve taken this year, and this one seemed harder on the cats than the others.

When I got home last night at two minutes to midnight, both of the cats’ bowls were full of food. Odd. Isabella and Casey are normally pretty enthusiastic eaters – Isabella in particular – and yet here were two bowls that seemed barely touched. A note from the sitter mentioned that she was concerned too; Casey hadn’t eaten his last three meals (which meant the fourth was rotting in the bowl). But both cats seemed basically OK so I decided the problem could wait until I had some sleep.

In my own cozy bed. With my cozy cat curled up next to me. Until …

Have you ever been awakened by the sound of a cat erupting? It’s not good. Isabella spewed the little she had eaten in no fewer than three places, including over the edge of the bed onto the floor (splash!). That woke me enough to a) wipe floor, b) peel the comforter out of the now-barfy cover, and c) add another problem to the list of things that I’d deal with after I had some sleep – now curled up tight in a little chilly ball in my no longer cozy comforter-less bed.

This morning I got Casey to eat with a bit of encouragement, tested Isabella’s blood sugar (it was not great but not awful), and started some laundry (bye-bye-barf), which took care of the obvious problems. But I’ve got the nagging feeling that all is not well with Isabella. She seems a little off, sort of depressed -- which means the next trip I take is probably going to be to the vet.

The ties that bind

One thing about feline diabetes is that it requires a commitment. My cat, previously so self-sufficient, now needs a pancreatic stand-in - and that's not a job that allows vacation days. Because Isabella's pancreas has put its feet up and retired, I, or someone else, has to be at the ready with insulin at least twice a day.

When the Isabella's vet broke the diabetes news, I swear I felt a tether wrap around my ankle. It tugs on me when I'm out of the house with insulin time approaching and it wakes me up early every morning. For the first three months, that tether, and Isabella, ran the show. The thing is, tethers make me wiggly and restless. I needed to wrest control out of Isabella's furry little paws and reclaim my independence. I needed to feel like I could go somewhere if I wanted to go. I needed to untie the tether.

I did untie it. Lots of times. I've traveled more this year than ever before, and I'm not done yet. I started slowly - a weekend in Santa Cruz with high school friends. Several weeks ahead of time, I started searching for a pet-sitter. First I asked a friend who lives quite close and who had administered sub-q fluids to her own cat. Insulin would be a piece of cake for her, I thought.

Well, not so much. Turns out she could barely stand dealing with needles for a cat she knew, and Isabella doesn't exactly have a stellar reputation for friendliness among my friends and family. She declined. I asked the techs at my vet's office. Nope. I turned to the internet, where I found several local sitters who would happily come by -- to the tune of 25 bucks per visit. $50 a day for pet-sitting is not in my budget.

Then I found Katy. Young, but insured and bonded. And familiar with administering insulin. Best of all, I could afford her. So I set her up to come that weekend I was in Santa Cruz, transferring responsibility for the tether to her. Of course I clutched my cell phone all weekend, especially near the times I knew Katy should be tending the cats, and I worried like crazy. But it went fine.

So I tried again, venturing a little further afield to my sister's house for an overnighter. Then a trip to southern California, followed by another trip to southern California. The tether slips off easily now. So easily that I've planned a weekend at a writers' conference, a weekend cruise, and a trip to New York -- all before Thanksgiving.

I'm glad I found Katy. She's a full partner in Isabella's diabetes, because she lets me have a life. She's willing to take the tie that binds me to the insulin bottle and the cat and wear it herself for a while. Sure, it costs me some money, but the freedom I gain is priceless.