The Brindle Kitty

By Chandler Holland

WARRNING — The following story contains graphic text and image, please do not share with children.

Bills. They’re something we all complain about, yet because of the way we think, they’re the only way our society can currently function. So I would like to have a conversation with you about one specific type of bill.

Veterinary bills. Now, I don’t necessarily mean the ones from your critters yearly check up, I simply mean any sort of bill referring to your family members that aren’t normally considered to be human.

Believe me, I understand. My family has always had a multitude of animal members and my parents don’t concealed the vet bills from me. I know how much it costs and I know why it costs that much. I also know how completely unnecessary those costs are.

It’s not my opinion. I know.

I know, because on the night of Dec. 4th, 2017, I was driving home from a class when my cousin and I saw a car pulled over to the side of the road with its blinkers on. As we passed, illuminated in my headlights was a woman on a phone, standing over a small animal lying still on the ground.

I know, because that night, there was a small brindle cat laying in a box on my kitchen counter who was in tremendous amounts of pain. She was constantly moving, trying to find a position that would make the pain stop, though she would never find one.

I know, because her leg was broken, her internal organs were bleeding so profusely that her chin looked as if it was covered in lipstick for she had already thrown up so much blood. Her eye was mangled so badly that it no longer resembled anything even close to an eyeball at all, and was also covered with blood.

I know, because she panted out every breath, and so much blood filled her lungs that it sounded as if she was constantly growling. It was loud enough to clearly make out as I stood next to her, petting her head as gently as I could in the one spot that I hoped wouldn’t end up hurting her further.

I know why those bills are completely unnecessary.

I know, because as I stood there petting her, over the gurgling and growling of the blood filling her lungs, she purred.

I know, because this is a living creature, who is in absolute and compleat agony, only barely clinging on to life. And she purred. She purred because she was alive. But because my family can not afford to pay the medical bills simply to see what was wrong with her, there was not a Gods be damned thing I could do to keep her that way.

I know it’s not the people. The people in the vet schools and the clinics truly care about the critters they care for. I know several of them, and I know that if they could have they would have done everything in their power to save her. I know it’s not the people.

I know that it’s the system and the money.

I know that the system and the money killed that beautiful, purring creature. And I swear by all the Gods that it will never, NEVER happen again.

Not on my watch.