Only a Cat

The house is in disarray, the fire keeps going out, the chicken-pen fence is down. Korean pilgrims come and come. Murphy Cat is dying.

The vet says Murph ate a mouse or a rat last week, a mouse or rat that was poisoned. He ate an awful lot of the poison, a kind that attacks the liver and kidneys, that causes internal bleeding. A slow-acting kind.

If you have stayed at The Peaceable, you may have met Murph, he has been here almost from the start. He snuggles with pilgrims sometimes -- especially those who dislike or are allergic to cats, or who are fastidious about getting fur on their clothing. He has a big voice, and greets Patrick in the morning with noisy demands for food. He is a fine mouser.

Murphy has tried to die several times already. He was poisoned before -- poisoning rodents is something farmers do. He was run over and broke three of his legs. He disappears periodically, and comes back all thin and hungry. He´s gone toe-to-toe with Lulu the Greyhound, and only a few weeks ago recovered from an infected bite he suffered in a cat-fight out back. He is just a cat, but to the local veterinarians he is a cash cow.  

And so, since Friday we´ve taken Murph to the veterinarian in Sahagun each morning for injections of several kinds. We force-feed him with soft things, squirt water down his throat til he yowls horribly. He tries to go to the window to go outside, and on the way he totters and falls. He passes out of consciousness, his eyes staring empty. 

Tim and Rosie and Momo come and sniff him, then turn away. For hours at a time, Murph´s not here.

He is only a cat. I asked the vet if we shouldn´t just put him down.

“He has a chance,” he says. “Why take that away from him? He isn´t suffering,” he says.

Murph is suffering, goddammit. I hold him and cry while he cries, and then when he stops crying. I put food into his mouth and he arches his head back and goes stiff and still, his eyes go blank. His fat, glossy body is a limp, ragged sack of bones and misery. 

I love him. I hate this.

He is only a cat, but I love him to death.

I love him, so I want him to die.   



Note: Murphy died on 15 January at 11 a.m. I was holding him in my arms, Paddy was alongside, Bruno and Rosie right there, too. He did not go easy, it was horrifying. John Murphy is the finest cat I ever had. Please, if you live in an area where rodents are routinely poisoned, DO NOT WAIT when your cat shows lethargic behavior and gets a runny nose. It may not be a cold. It may be rat poison. Get him to a veterinarian. If discovered early, this kind of poison can be counteracted with vitamin injections, his life can be saved.