Our Head Cat, Mr. Lewis, is old, has feline HIV and has been on his dignified way out enough times to qualify as the definitive proof that cats have nine lives.

Lewis’ latest flirtation was death involved a bad reaction to a new medicine for joint pain. He stopped eating–and I mean stopped. We began syringe feeding (we’d been through that before), but as Head Cat’s baseline weight hovers at about 7.5 pounds, there wasn’t much wiggle room. Charlie and I were soon calling for help.

Our wonderful house-calling vet galloped to the rescue, bringing medicine to heal Lewis’ stomach. I was also put through emergency vet tech school and learned to administer cat I.V.’s. So, now I spend mornings before work and evenings after dinner medicating and feeding a cat. Who, by the way, is back! Lewis is once again enjoying his ancient life to the max!

Why I gladly spend all this time on cat maintenance iss directly related to working the Steps–specifically to making amends. During my sad, bad years I let down my family cocker spaniel at the end of her life. I was too un-together to make a home for that old and beloved dog, and so  I farmed her off on some people who didn’t take very good care of her. She was found dead in a field behind their house. I will never not feel pain about my shoddy, self-centered behavior

I can’t make amends directly to Lewis, but I can acknowledge my need to make amends to her by taking the best care I can of any animal that Charlie and I take in. Lewis was a rescue cat (we found him at a dumpster. Some person that I’m sure I wouldn’t like very much had thrown a litter of kittens away–literally–and Mr. Lewis was the last survivor.) We plan to continue his rescue, no matter how inconvenient it may be, as long as he’s still enjoying himself. For me, it’s all part of my sober life.