Cats are wonderful animals. That is, house cats are wonderful animals. I know little of barn cats, alley cats, big cats, or cats in zoos. All I know about cats is a cat that lives in my house. The cat does nothing useful. Nevertheless, she is a wonderful to observe and a living creature, other than my wife, that I find lovable.
A few months ago, I expected the cat would die at any moment. She began to show signs of diabetes. As she got sicker from the disease, the cat began to lose weight and her coat became ragged. We took her to the vet where we learned she is diabetic and requires two insulin shots a day.
Initially, the shots did not seem to make a difference. She was getting skinnier and her coat became even more ragged. She was also eating houseplants. Debilitated by the illness, we thought of putting her down (as they say, we never can talk about death without euphemisms). When we got her to the vet, she suggested we increase the insulin dose, which we did.
Within days, the cat put on weight and began to feel better. However, one day I heard a plaintive cry come from the cat. A cry I had never heard before. I found her hiding in a closet. I picked her up and held like a baby to my chest. She cried and cried. I decided that maybe the cat was showing signs of low blood sugar. I put honey on her gums and on her teeth. She licked the honey and soon she stopped crying. For several more weeks, everything went well. Then one day she began to cry again and this time it was worse. Now I really thought it was time to let her go. Instead, I put honey on gums and teeth and she quieted but not as quickly as before. We took her to the vet and the suggestion to lower her insulin dose seemed like a good idea.
The lower dose worked.
Now the cat is content, overweight, and still does not like me. Oh, she tolerates me, but she loves my wife, as I do. Nevertheless, we have a contented cat in our home that likes to watch the Animal Channel, especially when there are stories about the big cats of Africa.