Reincarnation

Yesterday was one of the worst days of my life.

It strikes me as somewhat strange that one of these horrible moments comes around almost every ten years on the nose.

Essentially the decision to put Manhattan to sleep was made on Thursday night. When we brought her into see her doctor that evening, there were three separate pieces of bad news.

The first was that her kidney values had increased once again, suggesting further deterioration of the kidney's ability to filter out toxin. Even more disturbing was her continued weight loss. In just four short days she had lost another 6 ounces breaking the six pound mark. Had she not been eating, this might have made some sense, but her appetite was more than just okay.

The final straw came from her veterinarian, Dr. Smith. She told us that upon physical inspection of Manhattan's belly her intestines felt swollen like rigid garden hoses. This suggested, at best, a violent inflammation of the intestinal tract. More likely, it suggested intestinal cancer. This certainly would explain the violent and unexpected weight loss.

Saturday morning started early, as I drove the rented Ford Escape into midtown over the 59th Street Bridge. The first thing I noticed was a heavy fog that completely obscured the island of Manhattan. I knew that in just a few short hours my Manhattan would be gone as well.




Forty five minutes before our appointment, I picked up my beautiful friend. She was awake, laying on her favorite robe, but with a tired look in her eyes. The painkillers, given to her on Thursday, had now almost completely worn off and the returning discomfort had most likely kept her up most of the night. That made two of us.

Before I placed her in the carrier for the last time, I spent fifteen minutes saying my last goodbye. I tried desperately to look directly into her sunken eyes, and eventually rested my head gently against her furry belly. I remember how warm she felt against my cheek and how incredibly cold I felt inside.

On the way to the car I held her mesh carrier up to every pigeon I could find. I wanted to squeeze out every last drop of her life before it was taken away from her. What I really wanted to do was to stop time completely. At that moment, I would have happily given up every single one of my possessions just to buy her another few years.

If you are interested, the details of what goes on during a feline euthanasia are available on the Internet. Frankly, I do not want to go into them, but I can tell you that you will never experience ten minutes that go by more slowly. The only remarkable thing about this visit, was the woman that performed the procedure. Her name is Dr. Smith and she works at the Astoria Veterinary Group.

For starters, she opened the office early for us so that we would not be rushed. Every step was handled with sensitivity and dignity. At each stage she asked us if we were okay, and then proceeded only when she knew we were ready.

After Manhattan slipped away peacefully, Dr. Smith gently kissed her on the nose. Together, we wrapped her body in a soft piece of of navy blue fleece. In actuality, it was the cover of the L.L. Bean bed that I had bought for her right after I adopted her. It was boldly embroidered with her name. After that, we placed her in the makeshift casket that I was able to find the day before and around that we carefully wrapped white ribbon.

The drive out to Shelter Island was long, the traffic was bad, and I was already exhausted with sorrow. However, as you head further out on Long Island the cars thin off into nothing and the road becomes a single lane.



Off of route 25, we pulled into a small nursery and picked out a very nice dwarf blue spruce tree. It barely fit into the small rented SUV.

Once out on the island, I dropped into a small florist to buy my mom a Mother's Day orchid.

I added to the order one single peach colored rose.




The purpose of driving Manhattan out all this way was to bury her alongside my family home. By the time we arrived, the day was quickly fading, but with the help of my step-father we dug a deep grave and carefully placed her tiny casket in a fortified cavity at the bottom. We filled in the displaced soil and then directly above that planted the blue spruce. In front of that, we carefully placed Manhattan's rose.




This little tree now sits prominently in the sun next to our front porch.




My hope is that this baby blue spruce, with some help, will one day reach itself up to the top deck where my bedroom now sits.

If so, I can once again sleep with my best buddy Manhattan by my side.

Goodbye Old Girl

Manhattan Matthes




Born: March 27th, 1993

Died: May 9th, 2009 at 10:16AM

Today the sickness died, but you will live forever.

Torn To Pieces

I have not posted for the last month because I have been working like a mad man. It seemed like one shoot followed the other like a chain of elephants. This left me with so little time for anything other than producing and shooting with my new camera. First there was an effects heavy, green screen music video. Then several interview projects. Then the new national WebMD campaign.




I was so transfixed with working, that I started to forget what was really important to me.

For quite a while, I have been aware that my cat's health has been declining. She has a overactive thyroid condition and her kidney values have been slowly deteriorating. These two conditions are not unusual in a 16 year-old cat. In fact one of my last blog posts was a celebration of that impressive milestone.

However, as I concentrated on my own work issues, I did not clearly see what was happening to her. Out of sight, and somewhat in the background, the darkness seemed to creep in.

Last year, Manhattan was a solid 10 pound cat. In the past year, her thyroid condition caused her to drop a couple pounds. You can see from this picture, taken several weeks ago, that her normally wide face has narrowed slightly.




When I finally took a good look at her this past weekend she seemed alarmingly thin to me. I quickly packed her up in her carrier and headed off to he vet. When the doctor placed her on the scale, we were both shocked to see that she had lost another full pound in just the past month.

The veterinarian immediately gave Manhattan some electrolyte fluids and her thyroid pill. She then told me that she felt taking blood tests was unnecessary. The vet explained that the tests would undoubtedly show further kidney decline and thereby call for more pills. When a cat has failing kidneys, more pills is only going to worsen the problem.

It quickly became obvious that the vet was explaining to me that further treatment was not a very good idea.

Manhattan is not a lap cat, and you might even accuse her of not being very affectionate. Like a lot of cats, she loves you when she is hungry and quite content to do her own thing when she is not. I adopted her as a nine year old, but I often think about how nice it would have been to have known her as a tiny kitten. I wonder if she was as fiercely independent even then.

However, at this point in the grim conversation Manhattan walked across the examination table and buried her head between my arm and body as if to say "protect me". The vet saw this and slowly smiled at me. Instantly tears started to stream down my face.

Manhattan is part of my family, and I love her with all of my heart. When you love someone, it is your unspoken duty to protect them from harm. There is no amount of money that I would not give to save her. If I could, I would happily give years of my own life to extend hers. Obviously, this is not an option available to me.

What I am faced with, is a decision that is emotionally tearing me apart.

In order to protect Manhattan from future suffering, I am going to be asked to order the end of her life.

All I can think about is the last seven years.

*The day I first saw her in the shelter window. She looked up at me with her big soulful eyes and said "get me out of here".

*The day her picture was displayed in Times Square after winning a Yahoo photo contest.




*When I was very sick in 2005, she sensed it, and against her own rules slept by my side night after night.




*Last month, when I brought home her birthday present, she slept in it for several days straight.




How can I be the agent of her death?

On the other hand, if I do not make a clear decision, how can I let her waste away and stoically suffer?

There is no way I could ever be a veterinarian. I know that they must be faced with this difficult decision many times a year. When it the right time? How can you tell when the humane line has been crossed?

This week, I will spend as much time as I can with her. I will watch her and try to ascertain her overall condition. I can only hope that God will give me an unmistakable sign to tell me when the time has come. Even if I see that sign clearly, I know that it will tear me apart to have to hold my excellent friend while she quietly passes away.

“We never understand how little we need in this world until we know the loss of it”

~ James Matthew Barrie

Happy Birthday Buddy

This past weekend I celebrated the birthday of my cat Manhattan.





I adopted her from a small west side animal shelter when she was nine, and she is now 16 years old. That is 80-84 in human years (depending on the calculator that you use).

I am constantly telling her stories of English cats that have lived to be well over 30 years old. I think she is starting to believe me.

For this big milestone, I bought her a big tub of fresh Cosmic catnip, a Maryland crab cake and a brand new navy blue Daba Doo cat bed. She did me the honor of not leaving the bed (except to eat and stretch her legs) for almost three days straight.





Money well spent.

There is nothing I would not do for her. She is my charge, and I will take good care of her as long as she needs me.

If you are thinking of getting a pet, I highly recommend adopting an animal from your local shelter. There are so many incredible cats and dogs that simply need a good home and someone to care about them.

Cat Nap

This short animated piece has special meaning for everyone out there who has ever owned a hungry cat.



The only thing missing is the face to face that eventually happens.

Steamrolled

I got a chance to meet Eliot Spitzer last year.

We shot a short interview with him at his East 40th Street office for the Children's Hospital at Montefiore.




I am a hardcore Democrat, and I had really looked forward to the shoot,
primarily because I admired some of the things he had been able to achieve as a prosecutor in the Manhattan District Attorney’s office. Especially all of his work exposing the widespread corruption on Wall Street.

However, I must say that when I met the man in person, I found him rather arrogant, and not at all what I expected.

I really don't feel sorry for him.

I also don't feel much sympathy for the high priced call girl he slept with on Valentine's Day eve, Ashley Alexandra Dupre. (Pictured Below) Like Eliot, she made a conscious choice to go down the road that she did.




This guy has certainly fucked up a very promising career, but I think more importantly he has screwed up his entire life.

The four people I feel most sympathy for are his wife Silda and their three young daughters.




Can you imagine what must be going on in the Spitzer household?

I bet you can cut the tension with a knife.

However, there is a famous saying in Washington.

The only thing that can end your career in politics is to get caught with a dead girl, or a live boy.

By those standards, Eliot might still have a chance.

I think his next obvious step is to run for President.




If he does decide to run ...

I think I have the perfect VP choice for a dream ticket.

RIP for a fellow Manhattanite

The Westboro Baptist Church, made famous by protesting the funerals of fallen American servicemen and victims of AIDS, has just recently spoken out on the passing of Heath Ledger.



(CLICK PICTURE TO ENLARGE)

Someone is going to Hell, and it's not Heath.

Writer's Block

I finally found someone as bored of this blog as I am.

Waiting on a friend

I am not really very interested in politics, relationships or this blog right now. In fact, I am not very interested in anything but seeing my best friend get completely better.

My cat Manhattan just turned thirteen last March. She has suddenly, and without warning, stopped eating anything.




Last week, I took her to the Animal Hospital in the borough that shares her name. For the modest fee of $1200.00, they hydrated her with electrolyte fluid during an overnight stay and informed me that she definitely has an over-active thyroid condition.

However, as you can see from this website, hyperthyroidism will cause excessive thyroid hormone in the blood stream and it will speed up most chemical reactions in the body. This includes increased appetite and increased thirst.

Although she had exhibited some of those warning signs in the past, as of the end of last week all her interest in food and water is gone.

If any of you have any experience with cats, and have seen this problem please let me know. Any solutions would be greatly appreciated.

Thanks.

Find a Friend

First and foremost … Happy Birthday Mom!

The ASPCA was founded in 1866 as the first humane organization in the Western Hemisphere. The Society was formed to alleviate the injustices animals faced then, and they continue to battle cruelty today. Whether it’s saving a pet who has been accidentally poisoned, fighting to pass humane laws, rescuing animals from abuse or sharing resources with shelters across the country, they work toward the day in which no animal will live in pain or fear.

I had some trouble sleeping last night, so I slapped this piece together.



Become a member of the ASPCA, or go to one of their animal shelters and find a cat or dog who needs a good home.

Several years ago I adopted a nine-year-old tiger cat named Manhattan, and I love her with all my heart.

Fat Cat

Hercules a.k.a Goliath (Pictured below) recently made the national news when, on a mission to steal food from Justin Timberlake's craft service table, he got stuck in a doorway.




I think I may have finally found a cat that could possibly hold his own against my own cat Manhattan (Pictured below).