I had my cat euthanized yesterday. Let me tell you, that does not make for a fun Saturday to say the least.
She was pretty sick. She had some weird aggressive form of cancer in her face–under her eye, near her jaw. We weren’t expecting to have her for too much longer, but that morning she woke up bleeding out of her eye. I think a piece of it fell out; something did. Basically, she was in bad shape; probably in pain, but I don’t know. She was a trooper about that sort of stuff.
I took her in to get checked out. I didn’t think there was really anything that could be done, but I also didn’t go there with the expectation of putting her down. But after a quick look over, the vet strongly suggested that that’s what we should do. Dad agreed. I was conflicted, and I still am.
I was there for the whole thing. Now, I consider myself pretty emotionally resilient, but that’s not something I can witness again. It’s too much. I swear the cat knew what was going on. We had to pry her from her carrier; she was hissing and growling, jumping away from everyone. She saw me, and I tried to calm her down, but what am I gonna do? Tell her everything’s gonna be OK?
The vet’s assistant held the cat by the back of her neck, and that seemed to calm her a little. I guess it would; that’s what the mother cat does with her kittens. She was still growling, and all the time I’m thinking that this isn’t what she wants after all; she wants to live, even if she’s in pain.
Then they began to sedate her. Her growling lessened, and she started to get sleepy. It was so unnatural-looking; whenever she’s sleepy, she usually curls up into a ball for a nap. But this time, it just looked like her head got too heavy for her to hold up. And right before she faded, she put her paw on my hand. I don’t know. This was either a “thank you” or a “fuck you”. Whichever it was, Scarlet, you gotta believe me; I was just trying to take care of you in the best way I knew how…