BURIED IN MY PSYCHE (Part 4)

But by evening we notice Aroo's decline.  He won't move. His eyes are filmy. His ears are yellow. 

(I'm reminded of the worst kind of hangover). We decide Mattie will have to come back and offer her opinion.

Mattie, a positivist, has made it part of her daily purpose to save Aroo.  (I'm skeptical). 

I know the cat has kitty leukemia. I've read (and been told) his life would be shortened. 

It bothers me to pay out thousands of dollars to a vet. (Mattie takes Aroo to a pricey veterinarian in West Chelsea. They're excellent but expensive). If Aroo doesn't improve, her next suggestion is an animal homeopath in New Jersey. The homeopath charges $400 for the initial visit, but then it's much cheaper after that, Mattie explains.

"We've already spent thousands! It's too expensive."

"I spent thousands" my mother chimes in.

Mattie looks flushed. I feel a stingy cold connection to my mother as we face off with pure hearted Mattie.  Mattie (an ardent animal advocate) has been vigilant about Aroo's recovery (and my own for that matter). Money is no issue (to her). She spares no expense for the care of her own animals. Animals are one of her passions.

But I read articles (daily on the web) about snake oil being sold to vulnerable ALS patients. 

I read about vast amounts of money wasted on dubious treatments. People take advantage of dying people... (and emotional pet owners too).

If Aroo is dying, let him die in peace (I think). 

(Buried in my psyche, safely hidden from my rotting motor neurons - I'm making unconscious decisions about my own life.

At some point (I'm told) I won't be able to breath on my own. I will be asked if I want life support. This will take financial resources, and what will the quality of my life be?

"We'll watch the cat" I tell Mattie.  "No more pills. Let's leave him alone for a few days and see how he does."