soooo....
Animals. Are not people. You can develop an emotional attachment to them and they'll show you love and you'll show them love, but they still aren't people. HOWEVER, my take on pet care has now changed. Gobi, my adorable tabby, has something called HOCM, hypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy. I give him beta-blockers daily, and so far he leads a normal life. He will likely die in four years or less, or so the vet says.
Gobi has already gone through a full evaluation, including an EKG, and they want me to do it again. This thing is quite, quite pricey, and it will not fix Gobi. The best that it will do is tell us whether or not the meds are working, and maybe help adjust the dosage.
Up until Sunday, when this occured to me, I had come to terms with the concept of never spending lots of mulah on animals. Though I do love my cats, I also know that I've already given them a second chance at life. So with that in mind, to some extent, I thought--why spend exorbitant sums on an animal? It how I told myself I wouldn't pay for an EKG for Gobi.
But now I realize the distinction. No amount of testing will cure Gobi. And even if we get the medicine PERFECT for him, we're not talking about a significant addition of life for this cat. It's not like he'd be all better, or live a normal length cat life, or anything else. Monitoring his blood pressure will get us close enough. However, if Gobi could be fixed, and it cost a lot, I just might do it. I mean, I still don't think I'd spend $3,000 to give a twelve year old dog a new hip, but I do think I might give a three year old cat a better chance if I could.
So, that's it. It's about cures versus analysis.
Friends.
Change A LOT. It's so crazy! Jessica, Renee and I are now in our ninth year of friendship. In that time at least one of us has had, at some point and time, a bad haircut, braces, a crappy boyfriend, a change for the liberal, an affiliation with a sorority, a fight, a death in the family, a new pet, a new address, a new address in a new country, a house, a disgusting housemate, an embarrasing picture taken, a 2am freakoutandcallonthephone, a hysterical laughing fit, a homemade headscarf, an overwhelming urge to recite the lyrics to slim shady, a sleepover, a grown up moment or a disastrous driving incident.
We've been like sisters--getting along well, fighting like cats, uniting in our mutual digust/dislike, and sometimes embarrased by the realities that we lived while going to our separate schools. (One time I apologized for them seeing a picture of me in a tube top--silly gangsta function!) I miss them a lot. We're looking for a fantastic-but-inexpensive vacay to celebrate ten years.
Families.
Operate differently. Some of them seem downright insane, in my opinion. But still, if that's how they do it, so be it--it must work for them. And sometimes I have to remind myself that my mother is a hippie, my brother a used-to-be-bad-boy catholic, my sister a bisexual pagan and my youngest brother a solid-minded rock-star-to-be. That kind of set-up wouldn't work for a lot of families, but it seems to work okay for mine.
and that's what's dawned on me in the past few days. I've had more than my fair share of light bulbs, methinks. and I'm ready to read some good books and veg out on my vacay next week. Nag's Head beach, Fun Friends, Beer, Good Books and a 100SPF umbrella, who could ask for anything more?
