I am
numb.
There seems to be a rash of this lately on E2 and in my life. Nearly
six weeks ago, we had to take our seventeen year old cat to the vet
to be put down. I thought it was likely going to be the single worst
thing I had ever done.
I was wrong.
This morning we took our thirteen year old Siamese, Gabby, and the
new kitten, Sophie, in to the vets. We took them Friday for Gabby's
check-up and for the vet to see Sophie. Nick, the vet, noticed that
Gabby had some type of growth on her stomach and said that it was
likely a tumor. He said he wanted to have it removed and tested and
since it was time for Sophie to get fixed, we figured we would do both
at the same time.
My wife dropped the cats off on her way to work this morning. The
morning at work progressed as usual for a Monday, except I had the added
worry of how the cats were doing.
About 11:30, my wife called. Nick had just called with the prognosis:
cancer. It had spread throughout her reproductive system. He said that
he could stitch her up and send her home or not bring her out from under
the anesthetic, but he needed to know now.
Three minutes to make a decision about the life of someone you love.
Three minutes to decide whether or not I am selfish and try and hold
on to her a few more days or let her go.
I wish I could say that I was brave and decisive, but I wasn't. I waffled.
I asked for my wife to help me choose, but she told me what I knew to
be true: she was my cat, so I had to decide.
I called Nick back and asked him if she would suffer. He said that she
would, in all likelihood. Then the choice had to be made.
I told him not to bring her out of it. Just let her go.
- I hate that I didn't get to say goodbye properly.
- I hate that she was probably scared while she waited to be put under.
- I hate that I am going to go to the vet's this afternoon and pick up two
cat carriers and one of them is going to be empty.
- I hate the thought of going home and not finding her there.
- I hate the idea that she won't curl up in my arms tonight and purr me
to sleep.
You will be missed, Gabby. You will never know how much.