I remember distinctly something my mother and I did a number of years ago. I still feel really bad about it, like maybe there was something I could've done for our cat Bob, but instead I just did what Mom wanted.

The cat was a large, yellow tomcat. And in his prime, he was probably what could be considered the evolutionary apex of felis silvestris catus, uhh, strayus et feralis. We tamed him, though, and he was a very sweet cat. You could pet him and he'd sit on your lap, but he usually would scratch if you tried to cuddle him. He didn't like being constricted. And he loved fighting. He'd disappear for days at a time and come back with battlescars.

Once he disappeared for weeks, and when he came back, he was missing most of one of his ears. Over a few months he became more and more decrepit after his disappearances, and eventually came back in such bad shape he could no longer work his jaw and had a completely useless left eye.

At this point my mother decided we had to get rid of him. He would sneeze and sling blood all over innocent bystanders. It was gross.

We wrapped him in a blanket and drove several miles away and released him by the side of the road.

I assume he died shortly thereafter.

I keep thinking back on that day and the feeling I had that told me, "No. This is wrong. Do something else."

I ignored it. There wasn't much else I could do. Mom couldn't afford to pay a vet to fix him up, and euthanasia gets pricey, too.

But ever since then I don't ignore someone who needs help, be they animal or otherwise.

The girl I call my best friend has put me and the people around her through a spin cycle of discourtesy and bad decisions since I met her. I think she tells me more lies than truths. This is the normal state of her existence.

Until she does something that directly harms me, I am going to be there for her. I don't know why, exactly, I can face the lies and the drama basically unfazed. Yes I get annoyed. Yes most people wouldn't put up with it.

But it seems to me, she's like that cat. She likes to get herself into trouble, and I know for a fact she does not think before she acts on an impulse. Someone has to be stable in her life. She needs someone to like. She needs an ear to listen and, if she ever decides to accept it, some help in tending her wounds.

I don't really do a lot except spend time with her, but in the face of the behavior she exhibits, that's probably something you could consider exceptional patience and understanding.

There are several situations, similar situations, that I regret with the same intensity as what Mom and I did to our cat. There have been times when I've dropped the ball on someone at their worst when it really was no danger to me to just be a friend and help.

I don't want to be that person who shirks responsibility and shies away from serious goings on in her life. That person turns into what S is right now, I think. That person can't help anybody.