Sam and his friend Donovan were playing in the creek this afternoon at McCormick Park. Becca and I were sitting lazily on the bank of the creek when I told her to look, it's chocolate and vanilla. I hope that doesn't sound racist. I just loved the contrast of their skin colors.
She did it! Heather graduated summa cum laude (top 1 %) from BYU's school of music with a degree in media music. She was the only summa cum laude grad in the school of fine arts and communications this commencement. We are very proud of her. It was fun to be there with her to celebrate her accomplishment. 
It is the end of 5th grade. No more Lewis and Clark Elementary School for the Bishop Family. Sam received a music award from Mr. Rigall at the end of year awards assembly.
"Hey, this is not so bad. I get Disney Channel right in my room, I get to order anything I want from the food service menu, and I get to read and sleep and play playstation all day. And people visit me and bring me gifts." 
We spent several hours in the emergency room. I wasn't too worried until the doctor came in asked our permission to film Sam trying to walk. He said he would use it in his teaching. Calvin and I looked at each other after he left the room with a sudden realization, there must be something unusual going on for the doctor to make such a request. 
Nine days is a really long time to stay in the hospital. I slept there almost every night and ate fast food or out of a drawer of snacks we brought from home. Once the diagnosis was settled on, we were cautioned that this could be a long-term issue we would be dealing with. But I felt otherwise. Sam had been administered to by Calvin and Brian English early on Friday morning and many people were praying for him. I just felt like this was going to turn out OK. And I told the doctors that. I told them to do whatever they needed to do to help Sam heal, but that I knew that he was going to recover.
July 9, 2010
Emily and Becca told us the sad story that they had never ridden the carousel in the Carousel Mall before. The poor neglected children, we just had to make that right.
Do cats feel pain? Of course I know they feel pain, I have stepped on a tail once or twice in my life: a sharp screech howls out to the world, signaling the obvious discomfort of the creature. But do cats feel pain like we feel pain? What about fear? Does a cat fear for the future of its own well-being? Does a cat know when it is loved? When is it OK to decide not to treat a cat for illness and simply let nature take its course? Is it humane to euthanize a sick cat just because it is sick? Is it humane to not euthanize a cat when it is sick? I have been ruminating on these questions over the past 72 hours until I have made myself sick.
The Cat Nazi, as I now know she is called by my sworn-police-officer-friend, takes her duties as the code enforcement officer in our town very seriously. About a month ago The Cat Nazi followed our very thin twelve-year-old cat from down the street to our front door. She asked how old the cat was. She asked if the cat was sick. I told her we had done some research on the Internet and determined the cat probably had a thyroid condition, common in cats after the age of ten or so, because she wanted to eat all the time but was losing weight. But she was an old cat and we didn’t have money to carry out expensive medical testing or treatment for a pet. The Cat Nazi was appalled. She proceeded to tell me that it was the law that I seek veterinarian care for the cat. We are their guardians. Would you do this to one of your children? (Was having a cat equivalent to having a child I wondered, but certainly not out loud!) I questioned her twice about what exactly the law stated. Did we have to treat the cat, or just seek the advice of a vet? She simply stated that the treatment plan was up to the vet, but I would need to call dispatch to report once I had taken the cat in.
We adopted our cat as a fluffy little kitten from a barn cat’s litter. The kids would carry her all about the yard. She became a fixture in our outside world. She wasn’t allowed to come in the house, Husband’s rule, but she knew who her family was. We fed her and petted her. We took Kitty to the vet once to have her spayed, and once to be treated for worms. It was our duty as responsible pet owners. I remember a time when we hooked up an electric heating pad on some really cold nights so she would stay warm. As she matured into an adult cat, Kitty began to run out to the driveway to meet the car when we drove in. She eventually took up meeting Young Son, a couple of years younger than herself, at the end of the street when he came off the school bus in the afternoon. She then escorted him to our house. What a unique sort of cat, mothering her humongous boy-child.
About a year ago when she began to slow down, I pled for Kitty to be let in the house. Husband was the one who bought the litter box, and even the one who cleaned it out. We began to call her our old lady cat. Husband is also the one who brought home expensive canned foods to try and assuage her ravenous appetite. Old Lady Cat spent much of the past few months sleeping near the heater vent and eating, but she still always loved her out-of-doors: seems not unlike a grandma or two I am acquainted with.
The law requires that I take my cat to the vet. I had no idea. Because I consider myself a law-abiding citizen, I promptly made an appointment and took the cat in the next afternoon. I had a nice talk with Doc. I found her to be a very reasonable sort of vet; not making me feel guilty, as I secretly feared, for not wanting to spend a lot of money treating an older cat. I am quite aware that we are not animal lovers akin to some people I know, but we do love our Old Lady Cat and wouldn’t want to cause her misery. Doc assured me that she didn’t think Old Lady Cat was in distress. Yes, I would be able to tell if she was in pain and I would know if we needed to have her put down. I left feeling assured that we were not inhumane humans, bestowing cruelty upon old-lady-cats.
The sharp rap on the door came again this past Friday. I recognized that knock. Tell me what the vet said about your cat. Well, like I told you over the phone, we chose not to go through with all the testing, but the vet thought my diagnosis of a thyroid problem was probably correct. Are you giving her any medications? No, we didn’t get a definitive diagnosis, it would have been very costly and she is an old cat. We have chosen to allow her to die in peace. Ma’am, I am citing you for animal neglect in the second degree. Go get your driver’s license. But I did what you asked of me. I took her to the vet and….Ma’am, I asked you to get your driver’s license. I am issuing a citation. I don’t understand. What did you want me to do, have her put down? Silence.
We are being forced to euthanize our Old Lady Cat and I am an alleged criminal. I am required to appear in court and enter a plea of innocent, guilty, or no contest. I guess I need a lawyer. Do you think the judge will take into consideration the heating pad?
