Letters to the Editor
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Dexter
My cat Dexter fell from a 3rd floor window when he was a young cat. The bone in his right foreleg was shattered. Surgery and recovery eventually cost over $2000. But he was my cat, my pal, my writing buddy, who sat atop my desk in the sun as I worked and sometimes climbed into my lap to help. We sometimes sat in the afternoon sun watching squirrels play in the tree outside my window. At night he curled up next to me and slept until morning.
Dexter later developed the classic male urinary tract problem. It recurred several times throughout his life, eventually accumulating well over another thousand dollars in expenses. More than once he came close to death, but he always recovered, often exhibiting more strength and vitality than before. This recurrent problem weakened Dexter's kidneys so that, at the relatively young age of nine years, he passed away from a kidney infection.
There were many times I faced the option to end his life. Something always compelled the choice of life over death. Finally, as he lay suffering from the failure of his body, I had no choice. All the previous times meant nothing at that moment. At that moment I knew the thousands had been worth it. As I held him in my arms, listening to his breath become shallow and feeling the life seep out of him, I knew that I hadn't paid thousands to save a cat or a pet, but had instead saved a friend, a friend who was now leaving me. He had been a source of much joy and laughter and warmth in my life, which is (as all our lives are) all too often bereft of such things.
The empty place in my heart that echoes now with the absence of his presence tells me all I need to know. Love is worth every penny. Every penny. Anyone who puts a price cap on love is a fool.