- Joined
- Nov 20, 2019
- Messages
- 13
- Purraise
- 45
Yesterday evening I had to take one of the hardest decisions of my life and end the life of our eldest cat. We got home after midnight from the summerhouse where we buried her next to our two beloved dogs that we used to have. We planted tulips on her grave and left a candle on her final resting place in the dark November night.
We took her from the shelter six and a half years ago. She was the second longest resident there, waiting almost five years for someone to take her. She was extremely fearful or distrustful of people and even most other cats and that was very offputting for most people. To be honest we took her based on the way she gazed at us from on top of the shelves with her bright green eyes.. we had no idea what we got ourselves into.
She turned out to be very hard to socialize. She would hiss, try to hit you and then escape. She wouldn't eat in the beginning because of the stress. It took weeks for her to carefully begin sneaking around the apartment and come to eat when we called her. We took a second cat around half a year later to keep her company. While in the beginning it looked like another disaster in the making, slowly she warmed up to the other cat and they became reasonably close.
It took us almost a year until we could pet her on the head. She didn't know how to rub herself against a person, so she studied what the new cat was doing and thought to give it a try. She run headfirst into somebody's leg and startled both herself and the fortunate recipient of her affection. Day by day, week by week, month by month she became more friendly and accepting of us.
Two and half years ago she suddenly stopped eating and it looked like she couldn't close her jaw. I paid a girl that used to work for the shelter to catch her so we could take her to the doctor. It was a hugely traumatic experience for her and us as well. I was mentally prepared that her time had come but it turned out to be an infection, she got a very strong shot of medicine and already after a few hours back at home she was feeling better and started to eat again.
About a month ago there was a startling change in her behaviour. She suddenly started to come and sit on our laps while purring loudly. We know this is a potential sign of a health problem and then around ten days ago she almost stopped eating. I thought whatever infection she might have had before was back so I tricked her to take her to the vet clinic. Once she was in my lap again I just quickly grabbed her put her in the cage. I was sure it would be a quick visit, another round of blood tests and medicine shots and off to home we go.
But it was bad news, much worse than last time. Her thyroid was very ill. It was a long and complicated name which I immediately forgot. I asked what the treatment options are. The doctor said two pills per day and a mandatory clinic visit every month. She would perhaps gain another year, maybe two at most. I was shocked. You see catching her is a hugely traumatic experience for her (nevermind us), she fights every time like the angriest cat you have ever seen. And on top of that we have never ever been able to give her oral medicine apart from one time where we managed to hide it in food. After that one time she never again fell for it.
I discussed it with my wife and daughter over the phone. We all knew this treatment plan could perhaps work with another cat but not her. We would make her last year a living hell. After my wife burst into tears on the phone I knew we were out of options. I asked the vet if we would have made it to the clinic earlier, if it would have changed something. She said "no", but it didn't make me feel better.
So I betrayed her. I promised her we would be back home in a few hours, that she would be okay. I had to watch her in the eyes and comfort her when they gave her the lethal injection. I completely broke down. A day later and I'm not much better. I feel empty and hollow. I'm a grown man but I have to hold back tears when I think about her for more than five seconds.
I think I ran out of words for now.
We took her from the shelter six and a half years ago. She was the second longest resident there, waiting almost five years for someone to take her. She was extremely fearful or distrustful of people and even most other cats and that was very offputting for most people. To be honest we took her based on the way she gazed at us from on top of the shelves with her bright green eyes.. we had no idea what we got ourselves into.
She turned out to be very hard to socialize. She would hiss, try to hit you and then escape. She wouldn't eat in the beginning because of the stress. It took weeks for her to carefully begin sneaking around the apartment and come to eat when we called her. We took a second cat around half a year later to keep her company. While in the beginning it looked like another disaster in the making, slowly she warmed up to the other cat and they became reasonably close.
It took us almost a year until we could pet her on the head. She didn't know how to rub herself against a person, so she studied what the new cat was doing and thought to give it a try. She run headfirst into somebody's leg and startled both herself and the fortunate recipient of her affection. Day by day, week by week, month by month she became more friendly and accepting of us.
Two and half years ago she suddenly stopped eating and it looked like she couldn't close her jaw. I paid a girl that used to work for the shelter to catch her so we could take her to the doctor. It was a hugely traumatic experience for her and us as well. I was mentally prepared that her time had come but it turned out to be an infection, she got a very strong shot of medicine and already after a few hours back at home she was feeling better and started to eat again.
About a month ago there was a startling change in her behaviour. She suddenly started to come and sit on our laps while purring loudly. We know this is a potential sign of a health problem and then around ten days ago she almost stopped eating. I thought whatever infection she might have had before was back so I tricked her to take her to the vet clinic. Once she was in my lap again I just quickly grabbed her put her in the cage. I was sure it would be a quick visit, another round of blood tests and medicine shots and off to home we go.
But it was bad news, much worse than last time. Her thyroid was very ill. It was a long and complicated name which I immediately forgot. I asked what the treatment options are. The doctor said two pills per day and a mandatory clinic visit every month. She would perhaps gain another year, maybe two at most. I was shocked. You see catching her is a hugely traumatic experience for her (nevermind us), she fights every time like the angriest cat you have ever seen. And on top of that we have never ever been able to give her oral medicine apart from one time where we managed to hide it in food. After that one time she never again fell for it.
I discussed it with my wife and daughter over the phone. We all knew this treatment plan could perhaps work with another cat but not her. We would make her last year a living hell. After my wife burst into tears on the phone I knew we were out of options. I asked the vet if we would have made it to the clinic earlier, if it would have changed something. She said "no", but it didn't make me feel better.
So I betrayed her. I promised her we would be back home in a few hours, that she would be okay. I had to watch her in the eyes and comfort her when they gave her the lethal injection. I completely broke down. A day later and I'm not much better. I feel empty and hollow. I'm a grown man but I have to hold back tears when I think about her for more than five seconds.
I think I ran out of words for now.