Tigger

I've had to have my cat Tigger put down this morning. She had been taking medication for a thyroid imbalance for almost two years, and while her condition had been stabilized, the illness left her weak, vulnerable to other problems. She had lost weight over the past several years, and was feeling the effects of age, but she had just been back to the Vet about a week ago, and seemed to be doing well, despite the circumstances. So it was a sad surprise when she became more seriously ill over the weekend.

We're not entirely sure how old she was, but we have reason to believe she was at least sixteen or seventeen; she had been with us for (I think) thirteen or fourteen years. We adopted her — or rather, she adopted us — when we lived in an apartment in Jersey City. She would escape from her home down the street, repeatedly, inevitably to hide underneath our front porch. Eventually, the people she was fleeing from seemed to lose interest, and we quietly, surreptitiously took her in. She was gentle and good-natured, and got along well with the other cats.

But she never completely lost interest in being outdoors. She was the only cat to jump through the open window when our apartment was burglarized, though she stayed close by when she couldn't get back inside. Many years (and a change of address) later, she would seize any opportunity to dash through the open front door, hoping to elude capture by hiding under the front steps, just out of reach.

When my son was born, Tigger was the first of the cats to express real fondness for him. She was even willing to tolerate the clumsy ways of showing affection that came with his age.

I'm still not sure how I'm going to explain this to him. He knows that Tigger has been ill — I want to find a way for him to understand that there are times, when an animal is seriously ill and with no hope of recovery, in pain and discomfort, that hastening death is the kind and right thing to do. That it's a difficult and painful decision, but important. Perhaps a six-year-old doesn't need to be told the truth in a situation like this, but I think my son will want to know.