True Blue Juniper

Love in the time of Feline Diabetes

“/True blue Juniper/ She’s a storm front with a vicious curve/ The difference between lightning, rain, and thunder/”

“You know that cat’s going to die, right?”

So, immediately I’m pissed. I tap my fingernails against the table and wonder why I thought that it would be a good idea to talk to my mom about Juniper. My girl is sleeping on the couch directly to my left. Her little body is curled in a ball, the sweater that covers her FreeStyle Libre glucose monitor says “loved” across the shoulders. All week, between vet visits and insulin injections and low glucose alarms, my husband and I say back and forth “she’s loved” “look how loved she is” “Juniper, you’re loved!”

“I’m not stupid, Mom. I know that she’s not going to live forever. But she’s not laying down dying in the corner of the living room. She’s happy. She’s playful. She snuggles me every night. She’s healthy.”

“She’s never going to be healthy, Brooke.”

“Well, she’s as healthy as she can be.” I’m busting my ass to make sure of that.

My mom comes from a generation where if your pet is sick, you put them down. You drop them off at the pound. You take them to the farm and leave them to spend the rest of their short lives with the hay fields and the cattle. While I believe my mom loved our pets growing up, we also weren’t giving them extraordinary measures to keep them alive for longer.

I can’t say I agree.

As a kid, the only thing I ever wanted was a fuzzy companion, and animal to care for and love and all in all just hang out with. For a while, I wanted a dog. But, I grew up and realized that my lifestyle (long work days followed by not wanting to get off the couch, hating leaving the house when it’s cold outside) were not conducive to having one.

My husband and I moved in together in February of 2020, and by April I was begging him to let me get a cat. We both had stable, steady careers, were homebound due to the pandemic (but also knew we would be able to manage pet care once we went physically back into the office), and had an apartment that allowed pets. He finally relented once I showed him the adoption website, and when his eyes caught Juniper, we both fell in love.

I’ve heard people say that occasionally in your life, you’ll be given an animal who your true companion, a part of your soul. I love all my cats, but the connection I feel with Juniper makes my heart ache inside my chest. She is my constant companion, following me around the house and sleeping next to me at night. To her core, she’s true blue.

So when she started sleeping alone and hiding during the day, I knew that something was horribly wrong. She stopped eating. Our vet at the time (who sucked), hesitated to put her on insulin and opted for a different medication. She got thinner and thinner, and a week after my husband and I got married we admitted her to the emergency vet for three days.

Her absence in the house was a resounding emptiness that ripped my heart out of my chest. Seeing the corners where she would lay, now bare of her soft body. The toys she carried around the house left abandoned. I tore open cards from the wedding and deposited the checks — every cent we received was directly funneled into helping her feel better.

I broke down crying after a phone call with the vet tech who told me that she was going to be okay, but our whole lives were about to change, she was diabetic. Insulin injections, FreeStyle glucose monitoring device, $200 a month prescription food, back up emergency sugars for hypoglycemia (shout out to Karo syrup), training a pet sitter to administer her medications, constant, constant UTIs (a fun side effect of being diabetic), having to child-safety lock food away so she doesn’t grab it in fits of uncontrollable hunger (I have had to dig this bitch out of the trash can). Our daily routine wrapped around being available at 6am and 6pm to inject her insulin. The work is immense and exhausting. We get into routines, then her glucose gets thrown off, and we get thrown out of them — our lives a chaotic, emotional wreck that revolves around helping her blood find its balance.

She is also the bundle of fur I cry into. The soft purr as she nestles into the crook of my arm at night. The soft pads of her feet treading on the floor as she follows me around the house. When I carry her in my arms, and sing to her “true blue, Juniper”, she grunts and wheezes and her body melts like butter against mine. And, how could I not love her? How could I not do everything in my power to help this creature, who loves me in return?

There are a lot of people who have told me that “they wouldn’t do that for a cat”. A coworker laughed in my face when I told him that I spent $6,000 at the emergency vet. When I tell people about My Girl, I get “oh wow” and “that’s a lot” and “I couldn’t do it”. The same people show me pictures of kittens that they want and tell me about how they’re going to adopt a pet. A puppy, a kitten, a hamster.

I really can’t be a person who judges the boundaries and limitations people have for pet ownership, because those limitations are usually tied to money. My husband and I are lucky to have jobs that allow us to pay for the exuberant medical expenses that come with taking care of Juniper. Many people do not, but still want to offer a home to an animal. And, there are many, many animals that need a home — even an imperfect one. But, when people bring up pet ownership, with starry eyes and pictures of soft kittens dancing in their minds, I am usually the one to burst the bubble. I’ll be the first to say “wow, that’s awesome, by the way you should get pet insurance” or “do you have an extra 10k in emergency fund savings” or “you have to think about what you will do, if you love this creature with all your heart, and you can’t afford to save it”.

Making the choice to care for a creature with a chronic illness will exhaust you. You will think about other people and their healthy pets and wonder what went wrong with yours. You will blame yourself, even if the fault is not your own. But, you will also realize that while you fight the uphill battle, you are discovering the depth of your capacity to show love to a tiny life who can’t tell you “thank you”. Juniper has stressed me out, altered my day-to-day life, and drained my savings. She has also made me a better human being. If I had a choice to go back in time and choose differently, to choose another animal who wasn’t so sick or to choose My Juniper, I would pick My Girl each time.

The world is tough out there for sick little creatures, often left abandoned by those who are too afraid of their conditions. If you are fiscally comfortable, and willing to open your heart and your schedule, please give them a chance. You might find your own True Blue Juniper.