Tough Decisions

It's taken me a few weeks to want to write this blog.  I even debated not writing anything about it at all.  My whole life doesn't need to be completely aired out here.  Alas, I have felt the tug to write this blog about a decision, a really tough decision that I had to make a couple of weeks ago.

10 years ago I drove out to a farm house out here in the valley and gleefully adopted 2 little kittens.  Bryce and Maddie became part of our family very quickly and have literally gone across the country multiple times with us.  They have been great companions and fun little furry creatures.  When I got the cats I made 1 simple promise to myself.  I would never have or keep a cat that didn't use its litter box.  That was my hard line with cat ownership.  From day 1 we had no trouble.

Then we had a kid, and then moved, and then moved again, and then moved again, and then had another kid and then moved and then moved again and my big Bryce cat slowly has become less and less happy.  Well 2 months ago he started having "accidents" in the house.  I am a gracious woman so I tried a few things to see if they truly were accidents.  We bought new litter, a new cat box, took him to the vet.  Unfortunately he was still having those "accidents."

Two weeks ago I finally had to make the hard decision to take him down to the animal shelter.  When I made my die on a hill stance that I would never have a cat that used my house as a litter box I kind of thought that significant age or some physical ailment would play into the issue and make my decision so easy.  It didn't.  He wasn't that old, he wasn't mean or vicious, he wasn't horribly ill.  He just wasn't happy.

I have always had a tender heart towards animals.  I balled my eyes out when we lost our big dog Rocky.  I take my role as caretaker of animals seriously, but as I drove down to the animal shelter I had kind of hardened my heart.  I simply was done and could no longer deal with the problem.  The grace I had extended my kitty was at its max.  I pulled up, signed the paper work, and without much emotion left him at the shelter.

I drove home and haven't looked back too much.  So why did I have such a hard time writing this or wanting to talk about it?  Guilt, wrestling with my decision, wishing things would have been different or I had had more grace.  Then wrestling with the reality that he was a cat, yes one of God's creatures, but not something I was willing to stress our family or marriage over.

I had to adult that day and frankly it was harder than I wanted it to be.  Life is all about decisions.  Some are easy, some are tough.  Some don't really have a right or wrong answer which makes them even tougher.

Which is why I am grateful to have a foundation in Jesus.  To be able to wrestle with these things, make decisions and know that His grace is sufficient for all of my shortcomings.  I am thankful for the opportunity to remember this.

And for the opportunity to say goodbye....