OK. I have finally accepted it. My cat is blind.
Weird story: On Friday, I noticed as I watched out my kitchen window, that Sandy—our 16 ½ year old gray calico—was walking uncertainly in circles in the backyard and randomly bumping into things. First I thought she might be smelling out some small rodent, but as her circles continued, I suspected something was wrong. So, I put on a coat and went outside to watch her some more. She was disoriented, weak, and acting very strangely. I called to her and she answered with a strange, guttural, un-Sandy-like meow but she kept on walking in circles. I brought her inside and proceeded to put her on the screened porch where I knew she wouldn’t hurt herself. She seemed so agitated and nervous and she couldn’t seem to stop long enough to sit down. When I put out a bowl of water, she downed the bowl as fast as she could, then she drank another entire bowl of water, sticking her paw in the water, then drinking the liquid off of her paw—she had never done this before. She also acted ravenous, so I gave her a leftover salmon patty (I make these with canned salmon) and she ate the entire thing. By this time, though, I could tell that she could not see because she couldn’t find the food and water until I showed it to her, and then she realized she could smell it. She was also very weak and wobbly.
I thought maybe she was just dehydrated and that was causing her difficulties. But, even though the food and water eventually seemed to strengthen and stabilize her, it did not improve her sight.
I then went out to the garage and looked to see if any antifreeze was present to poison her since I knew antifreeze can cause sudden blindness. I found none.
I looked at the worming medicine that we had mixed with her water that morning, but found nothing listed on the side effects that mentioned vision problems.
I went on the porch and got her and looked at her eyes. They were fully dilated even though she had been in bright light. Something was very wrong.
I called my vet and he mentioned that blindness in old cats in not all that uncommon and that it is usually caused by high blood pressure—which is usually caused by another condition—and that I could bring her in if I thought she was uncomfortable. Since I have a background in healthcare, I contemplated trying to put my blood pressure cuff on her tiny little arm, but I didn’t think I could make it small enough. I knew that taking her in the car to the vet would probably drive her blood pressure sky high, so I avoided it and decided to take the “wait and see” option.
So, now I have been “waiting and seeing” for three days, and she seems like she is feeling better. She is more relaxed, able to sleep, much less thirsty, and very affectionate. But she still can’t see. Her eyes are still unnaturally dilated. And she is still running into walls. I have been trying to keep her stress level very low—that means keeping Cole and Neo out of her presence. (Sorry, Cole, but you can be a little scary.)
I did go down to the storage room where she has been hanging out and lay hands on her, though. I thought maybe God would heal her. I told Him I knew He could.
He didn’t heal her.
I thought about making some mud and putting it on her eyes and having her wash it off, but I then I decided against it.
Every day now, I wake up and check on her and I keep thinking that maybe she will be able to see. But she can’t. Yet. And I don’t know if she will ever see again. I could probably have the vet put her on some blood pressure meds to see if lowering her BP would help. But the medicine is expensive and she is old. And my dog was very expensive recently, but he is still young.
Is it wrong for me to make these judgment calls based on the age of my pets? I don’t think so. I think forcing a pill down Sandy’s throat two times daily would most certainly be miserable for her—and for me.
As I write this, she is sleeping soundly in a chair beside me. I wonder if she can still see in her dreams?
I wish that Sandy could see. She can’t. I wish that God would heal her. He might, but probably not—not because He is not able—but because I think He is trying to teach me something with this.
I think that God is showing me that things happen unexpectedly in this life that I don’t like. They come on suddenly and surprisingly. I don’t understand why and I can’t do anything to change them.
I can pray a lot and hope a lot. I can even wake up each day and see if the problem has gone away. But God might just let me deal with this so I can learn how to trust Him more. I don’t need to understand His Sovereignty; I just need to accept it. I just need to trust that He has my best in mind and that His decisions are always Right. Why do I try to argue with a God who is Supreme? Why do I doubt a God who chose to send His Son to die for me? I shouldn’t, because it is an insult to His character. And I won’t because I want to preserve His reputation. This is hard for me, a worrier.
So Sandy remains imperfect and unhealed. It’s not what I would have chosen, but God is the Chooser and His Judgments are always right. Sandy is just a cat, but God is the Creator of cats…and of me.
I will trust Him—blind cat and all. Maybe my eyes are the ones He will open.
“Do good to your servant, and I will live;
I will obey your word.
Open my eyes that I may see
wonderful things in your law.”