Getting Past the Inhumanity

Lilly Grace, CH Kitty

Getting Past the Inhumanity, What One Special Cat Taught Me. That's the title of a note I published on my Facebook page after my sweet diabetic kitty Tucker left this world. The amazing folks who run the CH Kitty Club site published it in the monthly newsletter also (you can read it by clicking on the link to the newsletter). I love the CH Kitty Club folks and what they stand for. I have written for their newsletter several times. Mostly I write about things I've learned being owned by a severe CH kitty, but that time the article was about how I would honor Tucker by living the way he did; choosing to move past the bad and enjoy the good.

That's been difficult these past few weeks at DCIN. I think all of us at DCIN are feeling it in some way. In rescue, we've been lied to, harassed, had medical conditions purposely withheld, have been forced to change plans that had been meticulously labored upon, juggle transports and fosters, beg and borrow - but all of that we can handle. What is hard to deal with is the most recent case, a first for us at DCIN. A kitty whose back legs were both broken and not too long ago, a sweet little boy named Sam. His trauma was not accidental; these were horrific injuries inflicted upon an innocent being. One leg has healed but the other will not and it's too badly injured for reconstructive surgery. We have to amputate. It was a heartbreaking discovery and a soul-searching decision for all of us.

I want to rail against the inhumanity, but I can't post my frustrations on our Facebook page. I can't jump up and down and yell at the world for the cruelties thrust upon some. As much as I sometimes want to, even need to, I can't. I can't focus on that and I can't let others. Is it bad to look past the suffering he must have endured, to try to put out of mind his abusive past and the physical and emotional pains he's still suffering? To concentrate solely on Sam now, in the present, where he is going, what his future holds? I have to. If I dwell on the how and why of what happened to him, how much and how long he suffered, I won't be able to get beyond it and focus on what's important now - helping him heal, ensuring him the promise of a better and well-deserved life. I must focus on the way he will surely blossom in the loving home his foster family has so willingly offered him. They have opened themselves up to feel his pain, to help him through his surgery and recovery, to treat his diabetes, to do whatever he needs. They have taken on more for Sam in the short time that he's been with them than his first person probably ever did. In truth, more than most would.

That alone is reason enough for me to take heart and be thankful for the friends and fosters of DCIN, the supporters, the adopters, and the people who share our information with others, who need help with expenses. As hard as it has been for us to learn of his suffering, we now have the privilege of being part of his triumph. We could let inhumanity define and defeat us, or we can move past it and remember that for every monster, there is an angel. And DCIN and all their supporters can take heart that we get be a part of Sam's new journey.