When dealing with the disabled
among us we often confront a number of issues that are surprisingly
uncomfortable. Even more so when faced with disability in our animal
companions. True to the gift that they are to their human families, they bring
us a deeper understanding and acceptance of ourselves.
Franki ‘Blue Eyes’ Hoffmann was a
most unusual Ragdoll cat.
He started seizuring at nine weeks of age. I met him when he was 16 weeks old with a request from his family to try acupuncture to control his fits, or at least lessen their intensity.
Blood tests, MRI scans and other
diagnostic tests had yielded no positive diagnosis and so Franki was labelled
an epileptic.
Franki was a special cat, not
entirely true to the Ragdoll nature but quite accepting of his lot. He
initially visited once a week for needles. He was also taking anti-epileptic
medication. The fits reduced in frequency and intensity.
When Franki reached nine months
of age, his guardian, Suzanne, asked me if we could swim him. She felt he was
really slow (he was) and that his hind quarters were weak (they were). At this stage the underwater treadmill was not yet installed.
I agreed and then the questions
began: how would I swim a cat? What was the best way to introduce him to the
pool? Was he brain-damaged? Could he process being placed in the water? And,
could I elicit the desired swimming response? – which is usually instinctive?
I started with a buoyancy aide
(or life-jacket). Franki refused to move – both on the ground and in the water.
I was afraid to drown him. We moved to a harness. Still Franki refused to move.
I asked Suzanne to place the harness on him at home so he could become
accustomed to it. I wanted a ‘handle’ in the pool!
Franki sat in one place at home
for two hours! To call him stubborn would be a
gross understatement!
Eventually I relented, and we
(Franki and I) entered the water without any attachments. He refused to swim.
After eight weeks of gentle encouragements and begging, I removed my hand,
which was supporting Franki under his belly. He started to move his legs! Break
through!!
From that moment on, we
progressed. Franki swam; we balanced him on a boogie board in the pool; and
walked up ramps. The treadmill was out of the question but he did balance
exercises on the Pilates ball – until he punctured it.
Franki was a regular patient for
almost four years. He taught me patience and tolerance; he forced me to find
new ways to achieve the goals I wanted. I would say that Franki was mentally
disabled, but he had his routine, and he was a happy cat.
What did I learn? Disabled pets
cannot be managed by everyone, but we should give them the benefit of the doubt
and try to find a way to give them a quality life. I am blessed to have known
and worked with Franki. He showed me there are paths, even if mainstream
society ‘says’ there are not. We have a choice – always.
I love this story. It deeply challenges many of my preconceptions about having an animals companion. More and more I am realising that my companion has his or her own life path that I have been invited to share.
ReplyDeleteI agree Kim. Slowly the world is awakening. I feel we have much to learn.
DeleteAhhh! Love this
ReplyDeleteThank you Elna. Cats are very special, indeed!
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