A world without caring

Note: Could be sensitive to carers of older parents or animal carers.

To lose her cat would be like losing another part of home. Another part of her former life. Another link to what she had in their cocooned world of caring for her older parents. With one of her sisters with her most of the time. They relieved each other at weekends when their brothers helped. Professional carers supported them also. Her Mum had dementia and had suffered a few strokes. She was totally dependent. Her care involved, washing, feeding, passive exercising, moving by hoist, medication monitoring, fluid and food preparation. She loved company and loved to have somebody sit with her and hold her hand. Their Dad was relatively good, initially. He would help by sitting with their Mum and reading to her. Every night he would recite the rosary and sing hymns by her bedside. Sadly, her Mum passed away in July 2023. Soon after, her Dad’s health deteriorated. Being a very independent man, he resisted becoming dependent for as long as possible. By September, following a serios chest infection he reluctantly became dependent on family and health carers for his personal and mobility needs. His courage and determination were remarkable but after her Mum passed, he lost the will.

Christmas without her was miserable for him, no matter how she and her sister tried to make things better. Life without their Mum, the love of his life was too hard. After that first Christmas he became very ill and needed to be hospitalized. They thought they would lose him, but he battled on and came home for his last six months. More carers came to help. Men from Kerala whose presence he resisted initially. Eventually, he gave in, and they became the best of friends. They enjoyed his chat and humour. He became seriously ill on a sunny Tuesday evening in June. They attended his funeral service with their wives and families, telling her family that he was like a grandfather to them.

People empathized with her and her sisters who took on the caring role. Everyone commenting on how difficult it was, how challenging, exhausting and time consuming. But the sisters savoured the moments. They got time to be with them. Live in their childhood home, with roles reversed. They became the carers. A chance to give back.

During that first caring Summer, July 2021, Moses her sister’s, fifteen-year-old cat moved in. He called the shots. He appeared when hungry, disappeared when fed. Not a bad life. A bonus was that they all seemed to like him. No cat haters about. So, he settled into his new home.

Sadly, four years later, life had changed, and the house was much quieter. No more carers, far less people about. But he was well looked after. That’s all that mattered. Until that Thursday night. Moses curled up in his little, furry, green basket. At midday on Friday 28th March, he gave three noisy exhalations. She was there with him, her hands on his wasted little body. It was peaceful, he did not suffer. She was grateful that she did not have to decide when his time was up. He made it easier, that he passed on without assistance from the vet. Another life, a personality, a huge presence, just gone, quenched like a light, as they all did before him. Tears fell as she grappled with another loss. The family WhatsApp was busy with messages of sympathy. Her close friends rallied around. Moses’ carer was broken hearted. The neighbour commiserated. Moses visited her house during his last week. Jumping the fence at the end of the garden, despite his weakening body. They say cats go away to die. Maybe that’s what he was doing, trying to leave as peacefully as possible? Even the white anemones along the riverbank drooped their heads in mourning.

Next day the texts started to come in from well-meaning friends. Facebook photos of homeless cats

“A white cat, Casper, three years old, looking for a good home. Cute and lovable.”

No, a white cat could never replace Moses. Casper was too ghostly, peculiar red eyes, no eye lashes. Cute, but not her type.

Next came

“Flirty, Bertie, a very friendly tuxedo cat, eight years old.”

Black, green eyes, white necklace and furry white boots. She was smitten. But could he truly replace Moses. Would any cat replace Moses?

Although Bertie,

“loves to curl up on laps for head bumps and petting. A gentle affectionate boy.”

Nothing new, as Moses loved to hop up on her lap at night, mooching around until he found his comfort spot before swirling into his signature swiss roll, resting snugly on her abdomen. No, it was too soon to even contemplate replacing Moses.

Later, another friend texted, this time, about a dog,

“Ollie, an unwanted present, in foster care. Looking for a home. One and a half years old.”

Loads of photos followed.

A perfect little fellow. A smaller version of Bailey, her brother’s dog, almost like his child. She thought about the early morning walks, late evening strolls, the love and affection, the company, the fun. Lazy evenings on the couch, long nights at the end of her bed. But what about her freedom to go where she liked? Who would look after him?

Texts full of friendly advice followed:

“They are a big care. They do tie you down.”

Then is life so exciting that little Ollie would have much to compete with? Perhaps her sister would like him, share the care and responsibility?

“No, that would be unfair, he’s had enough trauma already,” came Ellie, her forever faithful friend.

Yes, she agreed, taking him on would mean he’s here to stay.

On seeing Ollie’s photographs, the messages continued to roll in:

“Go for him, he’s perfect for you.”

“It’s fate, it was meant to be.”

“He’s just what you need, he’s made for you.”

“You’ll love him. he’ll fit into your life. Just like a baby.”

“Soon, you won’t even contemplate a life without him.”

“Go on, take the plunge, you won’t look back.”

“Look at those eyes, how could you ever refuse?”

“You’ll have a friend for life.”

“It’s like being pregnant, only the wait is shorter. Less time for the idea to grow on you.”

“The timing is perfect. Moses left so you could get a dog.”

Others were more cautious,

“You like your freedom. He will tie you down.”

“They demand a lot of attention.”

“Unlike cats, they crave company. They don’t like being left alone.”

“They are costly. Food, minders, toys, vaccines, vet visits, health insurance and much more.”

“He’ll put a halt to your gallop.”

Heck, he’s only a puppy dog, not a giraffe.

After tossing and turning, willing to be inspired, she had to let Ollie go.

It was not the right time,

“There's never a good time, Get him now!”

Her sister’s words spin around in her head as she steps into a new world without caring.