An Ethical Dilemma

I’ve been in the throws of an ethical dilemma this week.  I outlined in an earlier post Edward Bear’s latest medical conundrum.  This puzzle continues, darker hued with each passing day.  My little feline free-runner, aka Squirrel Ninja because of his extremely fluffy tail and wall-bouncing abilities, remains on the ‘concerned’ list.  X-rays and blood tests are all OK, but wobbling has been evident in the back legs while walking, he’s off his food, sleeping in dark corners all the time and a couple of days ago when he tried to run, he fell flat on his face.  Second and third opinions have now been sought by the vet, Romeo (yes, that really is his name).

There are three possibilities being bandied around.  The first is that it’s a virus.  Not a likely scenario, but straws are being clutched now and it is the one I’m clinging to.  The other options are something neurological, or evidence of a deterioration of his heart problem.  Neither of these latter theories can possibly be good as long-term prognoses.  The heart specialist who diagnosed Bear’s faulty valves is being consulted and a possibility of further scans looms large.  In the meantime, it has been advised that Bear should be kept quiet and indoors.

Edward Bear is a 2-year old cat with a curious nature.  He sniffs and digs and tunnels and investigates.  He rarely walks, he bounds, dashes and bounces.  He is mischievous – he lays in wait for Gus and Gizzy when he knows they are coming and jumps out at them on his back legs, as if he’s doing star jumps.  He sits next to Gus and bops him on the nose to get him to play.  He sits on Gizzy’s face when she’s asleep and then bounces around in front of her when she wakes up hissing – she is 19-years old, deaf, riddled with arthritis, has lungs like bellows so snores even when she’s awake and is missing a back leg.  In short, he lives life to the full. 

My dilemma is this:  as it is unsafe for him to be outside – he can’t escape from cars, other cats, dogs, foxes, or anything else that might harm him because he can neither run nor jump – he could be facing the rest of his life indoors, looking out at the world from behind panes of glass.  Would it be kinder to put him to sleep even if he isn’t in pain?  His life would come down to sitting and sleeping all within four walls with occasional forays into the garden if I’m at home and outside.  Would I be keeping him alive for his sake or mine?  Is life at any cost the aim?  It’s not as if he can take up other hobbies to keep him occupied for however long his heart keeps going.  A parallel can’t be drawn between people whose mobility is reduced and a cat.  My Dad with reduced mobility because of Parkinson’s and my Mum with a dodgy knee have other things they can do – things that occupy their minds – and aids to allow them to get around and live as normal a life as possible. 

Cats may have been domesticated, but they are still creatures that, I believe, need the freedom to roam in order to have a happy life.  I may not know what goes on in Bear’s head, but I can see when he’s happy.  He is a sentient creature.  He isn’t a possession.  I don’t own him.  We co-exist within the same space in a symbiotic relationship.  And I love him.  Putting him to sleep would rip my guts out.  But would I be demonstrating that love by keeping him alive at all costs, or simply being selfish?