Not Exempt From Withholding

When 9 died, there remained in the cupboard a large quantity of catnip. I'd bought a quarter-pound or so of it maybe six years ago, and I'd been doling it out to him a pinch at a time, on "special occasions", or just now and then when it crossed my mind. He would mmrow and purr and nuzzle around and generally get pretty happy-looking. He knew where the container was, too, and when that cabinet door was open he'd stretch himself up trying to get at it.

But in all those years, we'd barely made a dent in the catnip stash. He was gone, but the container was still almost full. I sprinkled all the surplus over him at his "funeral". As I did I couldn't help crying, and suddenly found myself saying "I'm sorry I didn't give this all to you while you were alive."

Why hadn't I? At one time I had meant to look up, or ask the vet, whether unlimited catnip doping is bad for cats. But I had no reason to believe that it is. Perhaps my stinginess was the result of growing up in the "Just Say No" and "This Is Your Brain On Drugs" era-- maybe I was afraid that a liberal catnip policy would put 9 on the infamous "slippery slope" to hard drugs? Or perhaps it was just typical Yankee sentiments, delaying happiness, suffering the world as it is, and saving the good stuff for a rainy day that may never come? As a therapist, I couldn't help but think there was some psychodynamic metaphor-- something about us so often withholding love from those close to us until after they are gone, then expressing it when they can no longer hear.

I resolved that if I ever get another cat, he or she will have catnip anytime, all the time.