Dealing with a pet in pain

I love my cat. If you know me, there is no doubt about that (or if you've seen my previous blog post about him).

On Saturday, I noticed Eugene's ear was flopped over. I didn't think much of it, but upon further investigation I found a large bump on his inner ear that closed up the ear canal. I immediately panicked. It could be a tumour, cancer, or something deadly. This couldn't happen. He's not even two-years-old.

With some Googling, my fiancé and I discovered it was an aural hematoma, caused by some kind of trauma to the ear. This trauma results in a blood vessel bursting and filling up the space between the skin and cartilage with blood. We also read that the worst of it was yet to come.

My sister took Eugene to the vet the following day. The two options were a $700 surgery, or putting him on medication and letting his body heal itself. Since I couldn't afford the former, we were going to try the pills. The outcome of both treatments is the same. His ear will shrivel up and shrink due to muscle damage, and remain that way for life.

At first, I was heartbroken. I felt like a horrible pet parent for not being able to save Eugene from his injury. I felt helpless as I watched him shake his head in discomfort, trying to dislodge the blood balloon stuck inside his ear. I felt cruel shoving pills down his throat. I felt like I had failed him.

I now realize there is no way I could have prevented Eugene's condition. I am also grateful it wasn't something worse, like a life-threatening injury or disease. I am so thankful for Eugene's life and will cherish him for life — goofy looking ear or not.

It breaks my heart to see people part ways with their pet because owning it isn't what they expected. There's a reason they're called your forever friend when you adopt. Your pet relies on you, in sickness and in health. The least you can do is be there for it.

As for me, I'm going to go home and snuggle the crap out of my little Gene-er. Time is precious and I want to make the most of the time I've been given with this little guy.

How my cat changed my life

Nearly a year ago, I was at my worst.

I was dumped in what I think was my most dramatic break-up, I started going to counselling, and I tried suppressing my feelings so I didn't have to deal with them. The last of these, of course, making the situation worse.

I didn't feel good. I struggled to wake up everyday. I didn't feel motivated to take care of myself.

In the midst of this storm, I brought Eugene home.

Little did I know, this curious and troublesome little kitten was going to change me for the better.

I didn't want to leave home. Not because I was sad, but because I couldn't bear being without my new little buddy. I was exhausted chasing my shoe-sized toddler. I constantly tried to stop him from eating my house plants, getting stuck underneath the couch, and crawling into plastic bags. I watched in amazement as he leaped distances up to a metre while participating in kitty-parkour: home edition. Luckily, after all that running around he was as exhausted as I was. When I took a nap, he would nuzzle his way into my blankets. When I woke up and couldn't see him, I was scared I had crushed him. But I could feel the little vibrations of his purr pulsing throughout his body, so I knew he was still alive...somewhere in his little blanket fort.

Eugene gave me a reason to care again. He was the spark of joy I needed to learn to love life again. When I couldn't find a reason to get out of bed, he would paw at my eyes to make sure I still would.

To this day, Eugene is a troublemaker. He's still an active parkour-er, he likes to wake my roommate and I up in the middle of the night (again, pawing at our faces), and he climbs onto places where he can't get down by himself (like shelves, where he's stuck until one of us comes home).

I wouldn't trade the giggles, the head-butts, or the purring for any of the trouble he has caused. He's my buddy. I wouldn't be the same if I didn't come home to his goofy, sweet face every day.