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May. 9th, 2003 09:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katallisonWell. The cat's medical reprieve turned out to be a short one. I came home from work today to find her visibly much worse--clearly in pain when touched or held, not able to walk more than a couple of steps before her back legs slumped and gave out under her. I called the vet, and we had a talk (her blood work had come back, and was pretty dire) while I held her on my lap, and then I hung up and we watched Buffy together, she and I, as we had a zillion times before. I petted her head, because stroking her back or flanks seemed to cause her pain.
Then I called the after-hours vet clinic number I'd been given, and told them I'd be coming in. I put her in the cat carrier, and drove out, wiping my eyes. She wasn't even yelling at me, clearly a sign that her heretofore-unflagging cranky energy was about gone.
Euthanasia, if you haven't seen it before, goes amazingly fast. Within perhaps three seconds of the injection, she'd slumped and gone still; a few seconds later, her heart had stopped. The staff at the clinic were amazingly kind and considerate; they had settled her on a little quilt, and brought a blanket to wrap over her, as soon as she arrived, and they gave me as much time in private as I wanted with her. So I was a wet mess for a while, and then said goodbye, gave her a last ear-rub, blew my nose, and went out to settle the paperwork and drive home alone.
And now I'm drinking red wine and smoking a lot of cigarettes, and, because I am feeling maudlin and drunk, making a little page for her. It has some photos, from back when she was healthy, and a blog entry I wrote about her a couple of years ago.
I want to thank all you sweet and lovely people who've sent along kind supportive comments, and apologies for not getting back to you all individually. I'm doing OK; just sad, is all.
Then I called the after-hours vet clinic number I'd been given, and told them I'd be coming in. I put her in the cat carrier, and drove out, wiping my eyes. She wasn't even yelling at me, clearly a sign that her heretofore-unflagging cranky energy was about gone.
Euthanasia, if you haven't seen it before, goes amazingly fast. Within perhaps three seconds of the injection, she'd slumped and gone still; a few seconds later, her heart had stopped. The staff at the clinic were amazingly kind and considerate; they had settled her on a little quilt, and brought a blanket to wrap over her, as soon as she arrived, and they gave me as much time in private as I wanted with her. So I was a wet mess for a while, and then said goodbye, gave her a last ear-rub, blew my nose, and went out to settle the paperwork and drive home alone.
And now I'm drinking red wine and smoking a lot of cigarettes, and, because I am feeling maudlin and drunk, making a little page for her. It has some photos, from back when she was healthy, and a blog entry I wrote about her a couple of years ago.
I want to thank all you sweet and lovely people who've sent along kind supportive comments, and apologies for not getting back to you all individually. I'm doing OK; just sad, is all.