3-Squares

[citrakayah]

The cat died recently. Well, one of the cats, the orange one. He was old, I forget how old exactly, but still old. But he was my favorite cat. I still remember him curling up around/under my head when I was younger like he was a pillow, a great big fluffy orange pillow.

Lately he hadn't been doing so well. He'd lost weight and all. But even when he fell into what my mother says was probably a coma, even when his gums were swollen and he was completely unresponsive and having what I'm pretty sure were convulsions, he didn't die. He lingered for days. I tried to watch over him, but much as I hate myself for it, I couldn't be with him always, I just wasn't emotionally capable of it. Which I should be, given that I'm 20, dammit.

So we had someone kill him. The nice way to put it is that we had him "put to sleep," but I prefer to be frank and brutally honest.

So I say that we killed him. Because we did.

And even if I don't feel agony right now over that decision, even if it's half a week later and what-not, even--or maybe especially--if I'm relatively unemotional... I'm not sure I can make my peace with that.

Not sure if I should.

Comments

[kisota]

Making that decision is never easy, and it's -always- so weird to feel even faintly responsible for the passing of an animal.

But really, as poor of shape as he was in... it was a mercy. Absolutely. Euthanasia means "good death" and while to me that's somewhat of an oxymoron, I do think it can be "good" when the alternative is a drawn-out painful death. :c

*nuzzles* I'm so sorry about Pumpkin. Poor old kitty. </3

[jewelfox]

My mother of origin hoards cats. And she has pictures of dead cats all over her refrigerator.

One of them was emaciated for his entire short life. He woke up one day screaming and frightened, and was no longer able to move. They had him euthanized because they couldn't do anything else.

One of the outdoor cats absolutely adored me, and loved spending time with me. When I moved out of their rural house, I timidly warned my mother of origin that packs of wild dogs came around there at night, and I'd had to scare them off by yelling at them. I suggested installing a baby monitor. She did not listen.

The indoor cat I considered my BFF, that I grew up with and wrote as a character into my fanfiction, finally had terminal organ failure when she was 18. We knew she had less than a day or so to live, no matter what anyone did.

I spent almost an hour leaning over to pet her under the table where they were keeping her, in an incredibly awkward position, recording video of her being happy. As soon as I stopped, which I only did because my hand hurt and I needed to get back to the place of the relative I was living with, she started crying for me. Her last memory of me was being abandoned and left to die.

I'm not sure a sapient being with functioning memory and empathy can ever make peace with these things. So much as try to develop new memories, and move on to other things.

[feralkiss]

I know, it's terrible. There was a cat at my father's home (his girlfriend's cat) and she was very old and died. But, similarly, it wasn't a quick death. They thought it would be quick, she was blind and deaf in the end and in pain, but she didn't, it lasted for days. They felt terrible about it.

When the dog (very old also) declined in health and they knew it was the end and there was nothing to do about it, they brought her to the vet to be euthanazied, because they didn't want the animal to stay in pain for days and days; like with the kitty. I think, when it's the very end and there is nothing to be done about it, it's the best course of action, rather than the being's last memories being only about pain and terror and loss.