Chapter 128

Around Dec of 2021, 3 months after my entering the workforce, the strike ended. When the strike did end, all the patients that were backed up previously came rushing in. Add this to the fact that Dec is also when those with insurance are trying to claim them before the year’s end and what you get is a VERY busy season. In the blink of an eye, a whole two month would pass me by along with the new years. 

I had been preparing for this influx for a few months when it happened and that meant that there weren’t too many issues with how it all played out. Like I said, I don’t mind my job when the bureaucracy side of things isn’t intervening. When it was over however, I found myself more financially stable than I had ever been. With this stability, it was time for some changes in my outlook of things. 

The girlfriend had been wanting a cat for a while and since we were financially independent and doing well, we figured we’d get one at this time. After a bit of browsing, we found a cat we wanted to have and bought him off of kijiji. 

Our cat’s name was Scottie and he was a shy boy. I’m also told he can be described as a short hair black and white cat. When we brought him home for the first day, we were more than excited to have another moving body around. I was worried I may step on him because he was so small but we were assured that his size wasn’t an issue. He was young, like 3 months old, and he had room to grow.

Or at least we thought…

During the first week, we tried to make it as comfortable as possible for Scottie and bought the best wet food and litter for him. However, he didn’t eat nor poop at all. The first thing we tried was to call the Kijiji seller to see if they knew anything but they didn’t pick up nor answer any emails. We tried again and again but still, no response. By the week’s end, we then got worried and brought him into a vet clinic to have him examined. 

Here, the vet told us that he’s doing fine but was just very dehydrated. He also assured us that it was okay for cats to be a bit stoic when moving into a new place. Upon his recommendation, we paid for rehydration and brought him home. But then another week passed. Still no changes. 

We were worried sick. The girlfriend was freaking out and I practically stopped eating all together. Cat raising was something new to us and we weren’t sure what to do. A few more visits to the vet later and still receiving no answer that was satisfactory, we decided to visit an emergency vet clinic. 

On a cold February night, we drove an hour North to an animal hospital with Scottie in tow. Then, we brought him to the waiting area and waited for a solution to our problem. Unfortunately, we didn’t get one. Instead, after careful examination and an ultrasound, the emergency vet came to us with the worst news possible. 

Scottie had feline infectious peritonitis (FIP).

It was described to us by the vet as a terminal congenital infection. The previous owner had said that the cat was not eating due to a problem with them fighting with his siblings but the vet told us that this condition was likely diagnosed a bit ago. My girlfriend and I were scammed and sold a cat that was terminally ill. What kind of sick sonofab*tch does something like this? 

The vet told us that there was really nothing to do except to put Scottie down as it was likely he was in pain. We both broke down and cried our eyes out. 

Seriously. What the f*ck.

After our tears dried and we came to our senses, I signed the documents and prepared to say our goodbyes. We spent a good hour in the vet office brushing and cleaning Scottie as best we could. Then, we gave him some of the “Churros” snacks, the only thing he still showed some interest in. Following another bunch of farewells and crying, we essentially held him as the vet gave him the injection to finally put him to sleep. And after that, he was gone. 

It would be another few weeks before we stopped crying. We’d known Scottie for just 2 weeks but we already loved him. In my mind, I was furious with the seller. How could they be so evil? Why sell a terminally ill cat to new unsuspecting cat parents? Why not take responsibility for the terminally ill cat? Seriously. What the f*ck. 

It was such a cruel piece of fate that was dealt to us that I didn’t even think much of the $2,000 we spent on Scottie’s treatments and termination. The emotional damage we got was priceless. What could we do though? Go online and bombard the Kijiji seller with horrible reviews? What does that accomplish? (we still did it though).

We eventually got over it and as the weeks went on, the girlfriend and I found that we were now still missing a fur baby in our lives to take care of. A part of us really wanted to stop there and then but all of the cat toys and cat food we had bought for Scottie was still there in our condo and kept pushing for us to try again. It would be a short while before we decided to try and get another furball into our family. 

This time, out of trauma, we decided to get a cat that was around a year old so as to avoid another FIP incident. We then fortunately got exactly what we wanted. Aslan is an orange cat with orange cat behavior. He is sometimes a crazy crackhead and sometimes a cuddle buddy who likes licking his balls and *sshole before asking for kisses. He’s also, more times than not, a complete degenerate when it comes to meeting other cats and dogs. Most importantly, he is healthy and still living with us today and we love him. 

During this entire ordeal, I realized that the girlfriend and I had very naturally relied on each other for emotional support for Scottie. It was a tragedy but it does allow you to really appreciate what you do have in life to see all the blessings we have too. It was around then that I looked back on my time with the girlfriend and remembered all the time we’ve been together. 

At that point in time, it was coming up on 8 years of dating. I’ve known the girlfriend for almost a quarter of my life and through all the ups and downs, she’s been there. In fact, the girlfriend had been by my side way more than my mom. While my mom had always given me a conditional type of love, my girlfriend did the opposite. In fact, even when we broke up a few times back in optometry school, she still looked out for me. She not only loved me, she had a passion for me and was not willing to give up on me no matter what.

When I failed all those times and hated myself, she didn’t hate me but continued loving me. When I have placed so much of my own self worth on my success and lost it all, she didn’t scold me nor turn away. She was bedrock and my biggest fan. I initially thought she was not the same caliber of person I was when we first started dating because she didn’t go the extra mile for her GPA. She simply never really cared all that much about it. I thought of her as an in-passionate person because that attitude sort of carried over to all her other hobbies. She just never went as hardcore as I did with cello, or breakdancing or even singing. 

8 years later, I now realized that she was passionate about something. It was me. Oh and forget hardcore, any amount of blood, tears and sweat I’ve spent on cello, breakdancing or any other hobby never came even close to her passion and sacrifices for just being with me. This is distilled determination. 

It was then that I decided that there was something I needed to fix. She wasn’t married to me yet and I had to remedy that immediately.

Rest In Peace Scottie.