I am someone you would never expect would do something mean. I have a big smile and people like me. And I have always thought of myself as someone kind and compassionate. But I have come to realize that there is something wrong with me, something in me that is terrible. I am a Christian, I have tried to live a good life. I'm even celibate since I am divorced. Yet I did something horrible.
I have always loved animals. I have many pets and have for years. They are like my children. This year, my two elderly cats (ages 19 and 16) died within a week of each other. I was so sad, and asked God to bring me some new cats to love. He brought me two very sweet brothers, as well as a female and another male cat who needed homes. One of the brothers turned out to be the best cat ever. He loved everyone, a real people cat. I'll call him Gray. Everyone loved him. Gray adored me, he would look into my eyes and pet my face. Then our female cat went into heat. My child begged me to let them have kittens so we could have that experience. I agreed, and we let them mate on her second heat. We planned to keep them all, not add to the unwanted pets. Our girl cat had the kittens, and I did everything to make sure they were safe and warm, and kept the males away. I work mostly at home, and it was summer so school was out, meaning I could stay at home and keep mama cat and her babies safe in my bedroom, and chase out the 3 boys when they tried to come in. When the kittens were old enough, they were allowed out into the house. Everyone was getting along fine.
Then suddenly, my sweet people cat started fighting with his brother, and the other younger male. I had to separate them until I could afford to get Gray fixed. So I put him in the bathroom. The other two male cats were not fighting. Meanwhile, I was getting ready for a party that I'd promised my child, to be held at my parent's house. I had a few unexpected financial problems then. Even though I didn't have the money, I didn't want to go back on my word. A couple of weeks later, when the kittens were only 12 weeks old, the mother went into heat again. This time, the other two boys started fighting. I tried to keep the female away to avoid another litter, as she was still nursing her kittens sometimes, and I didn't want to have her spayed so soon after having babies. The 2 boys, in frustration, then tried to mate with the tiny kittens! That could kill them, and I was so stressed with the situation, and had to protect the kittens. I had very little free time since school was now in session, and in addition to the 45-minute twice daily commute to my child's school, and putting in long hours for my employer, I was going over my parent's house every evening, to prep and decorate for the party. I didn't know what to do, as I was very short on money and could not get all of these males fixed right now, but didn't have places to keep them separated. We live in an old house and none of the bedroom doors will stay shut, so the cats can pry the door open within a moment. The only place to keep them is in the bathroom, and even then the boys could pry the door open with enough time. I couldn't put the mother and kittens in there and leave the boys out, because the boys would constantly fight. I couldn't put the boys loose in the bathroom together for the same reason. None of them had ever been outside so I couldn't put them out. So, I put them in carriers, and let one out at a time to stretch and eat. This went on for a week. I was gone a lot and they all soiled the carriers several times, and the crates had to be cleaned and each cat had to be bathed. It was all wearing me down. I found that the two boys could co-exist in the bathroom, away from mama and kittens, for short periods of time without fighting, but Gray would attack them if he was let out, so he spent the most time imprisoned. He was also the largest, so he had the least room to stretch out. All 3 boys were crated while I was gone all day and night last weekend, Mon & Tues night last week, and all day and night Wed. Gray had already been depressed from being exiled to the bathroom, being such a people cat. Now he got really upset, and got a wild, vacant look in his eyes. I planned to get them all fixed when I got paid again, after the party, starting with Gray.
I came home so exhausted late one evening that I didn't let Gray out. God told me to, but I didn't to it. I knew it was cruel, and felt bad, but not badly enough I guess to do the right thing. When I got up the next morning, Gray had been sitting in his urine and feces for who knows how long. I gave him a bath and left him out to eat. I noticed later that he really hadn't eaten much but didn't do anything about it, I had to work so I just put him back and let the other cats out for their turn. I was so busy, caught up in what I had to do for the party before Sat., and so many other obligations. God told me to put Gray somewhere else, that he could die. I don't know why I didn't listen, or see the solutions until it was too late. On Thursday after work, I let Gray out and he wasn't himself. He didn't eat that evening. He was weak, and withdrawn. I decided to take him to the vet on Friday morning, and noticed how thin he was.
The bloodwork showed his protein level was really low, he was dehydrated, he was running a fever and the vet thought he had a UTI. He was purring and responsive though, he seemed to understand we were helping him, and the rest of the blood work looked ok, so they expected him to recover with treatment. They gave him sub-Q fluids, an antibiotic injection, a steroid (they said it was to reduce inflammation and encourage appetite), and a B-vitamin. They also, without asking me, gave him a Capstar because they saw some fleas on him. On the way home, he peed himself. I thought it was from the stress and the sub-q fluids. I gave him a bath and dried him off. The light seemed to be returning to his eyes, though he was very sick. I kept him on my bed, got him to eat a little of the special can food that the vet gave me, and drink some KMR (kitten milk replacement, high in protein) using an eye dropper. I told him how sorry I was to have mistreated him. I sat there trying to help him all day Friday, thinking how I could not understand why I had seen his pain and yet ignored him, too busy and too lazy and too selfish to help him before. He was such a dear, a gift from God, I'd loved him, yet I'd tormented him... what was the matter with me! It was horrible, but I thought I had helped him in time and that he would start showing improvement. Instead, he rapidly declined, and as my child and I comforted him, Gray died Friday night.
I am overcome with guilt. I am an evil murderer. What I did to him is inexcusable and unforgivable. If not for my child, I would commit suicide. How can someone like me, supposed to be a Christian, supposed to be an animal lover, a kind compassionate soul, how could I be so horribly cruel?! How could I lock my sweet Gray away, neglecting his need for companionship, and then making it worse by locking him in a carrier to waste away in misery? I think of how he must have been heart broken, that the person he loved would do this to him. I think he felt loved in his last hours when I cared for him, but before all of this happened, he had been a beautiful, healthy boy who should have enjoyed 15 or so years with us. Instead, I killed him.... He died a horrible death. Maybe his system couldn't handle the meds, maybe if I had just force-fed him at home he would have recovered, but whatever ultimately caused his rapid death is irrelevant, and I only blame myself. He would not have been in that state if I had just taken him to the vet to get neutered. Had I done the right thing, he would be here now. My child loved Gray, and he is one of the only cats who really loved my child too. For some reason, animals naturally like me, they always have, but very few take to my child. How even more disgusting this makes what I did.
I can't understand how I could be so uncaring at the time, how I was nearly blind to his pain, and didn't do anything to help him when I could have. I also can't understand how my child can watch Gray die, knowing what I did, and say it isn't my fault, that I didn't kill him, when I know that I did! Though I wish to die, I must live for my child's sake as I am a single parent. I have chosen to not allow myself any pleasure at all. I have eaten nothing but unseasoned beans and rice, drank room temperature water, slept in a way that made me be crunched up and miserable with no blankets. But no amount of punishment is bad enough for what suffering I inflicted upon the best cat that ever lived. I eat and drink only because I must survive. I take care of our other pets, giving them affection when they ask for it, because they need it, but thinking of Gray and not allowing myself to be comforted by them. Ironically they all seem to want to be with me more now. It's sick, the boys even saw how Gray suffered, yet still want to love me. I hate myself. I will never forgive myself. I am expecting some of you to tell me that I am guilty of cruelty to animals, a heartless criminal, and that I should not have any pets or even my child. It is true, I should have nothing but pain and loneliness. I'm sure you will say give up my other pets. My child has very few friends but loves the pets, and with no man in the house, our dogs provide protection, and so I can't get rid of any of them. The rest of my personal things I have begun to sell to pay for the vet bills, and will not give myself any thing beyond basic survival needs for the remainder of my life. It doesn't matter though, no matter what I suffer, it isn't enough. If not for Jesus I would burn in hell, and even then I will not be surprised to have Gray and the mistreated animals in heaven be the ones to throw me into hell, with Jesus saying 'depart from me, I never knew you.' How could I know Jesus, and be so cruel?
I have always loved animals. I have many pets and have for years. They are like my children. This year, my two elderly cats (ages 19 and 16) died within a week of each other. I was so sad, and asked God to bring me some new cats to love. He brought me two very sweet brothers, as well as a female and another male cat who needed homes. One of the brothers turned out to be the best cat ever. He loved everyone, a real people cat. I'll call him Gray. Everyone loved him. Gray adored me, he would look into my eyes and pet my face. Then our female cat went into heat. My child begged me to let them have kittens so we could have that experience. I agreed, and we let them mate on her second heat. We planned to keep them all, not add to the unwanted pets. Our girl cat had the kittens, and I did everything to make sure they were safe and warm, and kept the males away. I work mostly at home, and it was summer so school was out, meaning I could stay at home and keep mama cat and her babies safe in my bedroom, and chase out the 3 boys when they tried to come in. When the kittens were old enough, they were allowed out into the house. Everyone was getting along fine.
Then suddenly, my sweet people cat started fighting with his brother, and the other younger male. I had to separate them until I could afford to get Gray fixed. So I put him in the bathroom. The other two male cats were not fighting. Meanwhile, I was getting ready for a party that I'd promised my child, to be held at my parent's house. I had a few unexpected financial problems then. Even though I didn't have the money, I didn't want to go back on my word. A couple of weeks later, when the kittens were only 12 weeks old, the mother went into heat again. This time, the other two boys started fighting. I tried to keep the female away to avoid another litter, as she was still nursing her kittens sometimes, and I didn't want to have her spayed so soon after having babies. The 2 boys, in frustration, then tried to mate with the tiny kittens! That could kill them, and I was so stressed with the situation, and had to protect the kittens. I had very little free time since school was now in session, and in addition to the 45-minute twice daily commute to my child's school, and putting in long hours for my employer, I was going over my parent's house every evening, to prep and decorate for the party. I didn't know what to do, as I was very short on money and could not get all of these males fixed right now, but didn't have places to keep them separated. We live in an old house and none of the bedroom doors will stay shut, so the cats can pry the door open within a moment. The only place to keep them is in the bathroom, and even then the boys could pry the door open with enough time. I couldn't put the mother and kittens in there and leave the boys out, because the boys would constantly fight. I couldn't put the boys loose in the bathroom together for the same reason. None of them had ever been outside so I couldn't put them out. So, I put them in carriers, and let one out at a time to stretch and eat. This went on for a week. I was gone a lot and they all soiled the carriers several times, and the crates had to be cleaned and each cat had to be bathed. It was all wearing me down. I found that the two boys could co-exist in the bathroom, away from mama and kittens, for short periods of time without fighting, but Gray would attack them if he was let out, so he spent the most time imprisoned. He was also the largest, so he had the least room to stretch out. All 3 boys were crated while I was gone all day and night last weekend, Mon & Tues night last week, and all day and night Wed. Gray had already been depressed from being exiled to the bathroom, being such a people cat. Now he got really upset, and got a wild, vacant look in his eyes. I planned to get them all fixed when I got paid again, after the party, starting with Gray.
I came home so exhausted late one evening that I didn't let Gray out. God told me to, but I didn't to it. I knew it was cruel, and felt bad, but not badly enough I guess to do the right thing. When I got up the next morning, Gray had been sitting in his urine and feces for who knows how long. I gave him a bath and left him out to eat. I noticed later that he really hadn't eaten much but didn't do anything about it, I had to work so I just put him back and let the other cats out for their turn. I was so busy, caught up in what I had to do for the party before Sat., and so many other obligations. God told me to put Gray somewhere else, that he could die. I don't know why I didn't listen, or see the solutions until it was too late. On Thursday after work, I let Gray out and he wasn't himself. He didn't eat that evening. He was weak, and withdrawn. I decided to take him to the vet on Friday morning, and noticed how thin he was.
The bloodwork showed his protein level was really low, he was dehydrated, he was running a fever and the vet thought he had a UTI. He was purring and responsive though, he seemed to understand we were helping him, and the rest of the blood work looked ok, so they expected him to recover with treatment. They gave him sub-Q fluids, an antibiotic injection, a steroid (they said it was to reduce inflammation and encourage appetite), and a B-vitamin. They also, without asking me, gave him a Capstar because they saw some fleas on him. On the way home, he peed himself. I thought it was from the stress and the sub-q fluids. I gave him a bath and dried him off. The light seemed to be returning to his eyes, though he was very sick. I kept him on my bed, got him to eat a little of the special can food that the vet gave me, and drink some KMR (kitten milk replacement, high in protein) using an eye dropper. I told him how sorry I was to have mistreated him. I sat there trying to help him all day Friday, thinking how I could not understand why I had seen his pain and yet ignored him, too busy and too lazy and too selfish to help him before. He was such a dear, a gift from God, I'd loved him, yet I'd tormented him... what was the matter with me! It was horrible, but I thought I had helped him in time and that he would start showing improvement. Instead, he rapidly declined, and as my child and I comforted him, Gray died Friday night.
I am overcome with guilt. I am an evil murderer. What I did to him is inexcusable and unforgivable. If not for my child, I would commit suicide. How can someone like me, supposed to be a Christian, supposed to be an animal lover, a kind compassionate soul, how could I be so horribly cruel?! How could I lock my sweet Gray away, neglecting his need for companionship, and then making it worse by locking him in a carrier to waste away in misery? I think of how he must have been heart broken, that the person he loved would do this to him. I think he felt loved in his last hours when I cared for him, but before all of this happened, he had been a beautiful, healthy boy who should have enjoyed 15 or so years with us. Instead, I killed him.... He died a horrible death. Maybe his system couldn't handle the meds, maybe if I had just force-fed him at home he would have recovered, but whatever ultimately caused his rapid death is irrelevant, and I only blame myself. He would not have been in that state if I had just taken him to the vet to get neutered. Had I done the right thing, he would be here now. My child loved Gray, and he is one of the only cats who really loved my child too. For some reason, animals naturally like me, they always have, but very few take to my child. How even more disgusting this makes what I did.
I can't understand how I could be so uncaring at the time, how I was nearly blind to his pain, and didn't do anything to help him when I could have. I also can't understand how my child can watch Gray die, knowing what I did, and say it isn't my fault, that I didn't kill him, when I know that I did! Though I wish to die, I must live for my child's sake as I am a single parent. I have chosen to not allow myself any pleasure at all. I have eaten nothing but unseasoned beans and rice, drank room temperature water, slept in a way that made me be crunched up and miserable with no blankets. But no amount of punishment is bad enough for what suffering I inflicted upon the best cat that ever lived. I eat and drink only because I must survive. I take care of our other pets, giving them affection when they ask for it, because they need it, but thinking of Gray and not allowing myself to be comforted by them. Ironically they all seem to want to be with me more now. It's sick, the boys even saw how Gray suffered, yet still want to love me. I hate myself. I will never forgive myself. I am expecting some of you to tell me that I am guilty of cruelty to animals, a heartless criminal, and that I should not have any pets or even my child. It is true, I should have nothing but pain and loneliness. I'm sure you will say give up my other pets. My child has very few friends but loves the pets, and with no man in the house, our dogs provide protection, and so I can't get rid of any of them. The rest of my personal things I have begun to sell to pay for the vet bills, and will not give myself any thing beyond basic survival needs for the remainder of my life. It doesn't matter though, no matter what I suffer, it isn't enough. If not for Jesus I would burn in hell, and even then I will not be surprised to have Gray and the mistreated animals in heaven be the ones to throw me into hell, with Jesus saying 'depart from me, I never knew you.' How could I know Jesus, and be so cruel?
