Harnessing Happiness

Two weeks ago, Mister went back to the vet and the vet confirmed what we already knew...Mister is in the early stages of kidney failure.  It's not like he's going to die tomorrow or anything, but we're having to make some changes.  We've switched all of the buddies to senior cat food (let's face it, we probably don't have a cat whose age is in single-digits anymore), and we're giving him his kidney drops religiously now.  And I'm loving on him.  A lot.  Not that I didn't before, but I'm definitely making sure Mister gets his fair share.

So today, something interesting happened that was both fantastic and kind of bittersweet at the same time.  For the first time, Mister let me put one of the new MetPet cat harnesses on him.  He borrowed Wanda's because he's the smallest of the boys in terms of weight.  

He did an amazing job.  I couldn't believe it.  It was like he'd been walking on a harness his entire life, and yet he never has.  He barely seemed to register it was on him, unlike Wanda who always tries to Houdini her way out of it and Reggie who walks around like he's trying to lay an egg.  Mister walked confidently and purposefully anywhere he wanted to.  I was flabbergasted.

And the best part was, when I put him on the swing set to see what he would do, he walked around for a while, then when he wanted to get down, he very casually went to the wavy yellow slide and slid gracefully down.  Like he'd done it every day for his entire life.  He hit the ground and bounded toward the patio, but I couldn't get down the slide after him fast enough and the retractable leash ran out right as he reached the wall.  It's a good thing he was in a harness rather than just a collar because that could have been a very bad ending for a very nice outing.  

We walked around the house once, then he wanted to do it again.  Finally, when we got half-way around the house, I decided we probably should quit while we're ahead and make him excited to do it another time, so we went inside.  Mister was not particularly thrilled about going inside, because this was the most fun he'd had in ages.

Afterward, I had a few minutes of intense sadness, probably brought on by his diagnosis.  It bothers me that I'd never tried hard enough to get a harness on him before.  He always ran away from me when I'd tried in the past, so I just stopped chasing him.  But now I wish I'd tried a little harder.  Here Mister is at 16, and he's walking on a harness the first time out like a cat one-sixteenth his age.  I wish I had started doing this sooner.

It's all the more motivation to make sure we do everything right to make sure that Mister continues to live a long, healthy life.  I'd like to see him get another 16 years.  It's become abundantly apparent that Mister needs all the happy time on the harness he can get.