I had Moochie put down yesterday around noon.
He was eating less and less and his activity level was going down too. When he started having trouble with his bowel movements I decided it was time. I called the vet on Monday and made the appointment for Tuesday. I can’t think of a more traumatic, gut wrenching decision than to make that phone call to the vet. On top of that, I’m still pretty sick, running a fever off and on, feeling light headed and basically awful. At work I have been getting ready to have board orientation meetings that start tomorrow so have not been able to take any time off. On Monday afternoon, I told my boss that I would have to be out on Tuesday morning to put my cat down. He paused and said “are the board materials going to get done in time?”
I lost it. I told him that of course everything would get done in time (doesn’t it always!!). Then, I said “Just for the record, I feel awful and if it wasn’t for the board coming to town I would be home in bed. I know it’s not convenient for you for me to be sick and to have a terminally ill pet but that is my life right now and you are just going to have to accept it.” He then mumbled something about getting me some help and I told him everything was taken care of (as usual).
I went home from work on Monday to find Moochie chipper and following me around the house. I let him outside and he went and had a lie down in my front yard. He ate well that night and Tuesday morning was also acting better then he had in a number of days. I sat on the bed and he walked over to me rubbing up against me and I started crying. “Moochie” I said “what are you doing??” “I’m getting dressed to take you to be put down and you’re acting like your feeling better?” I opened the crate and he just walked right in. At this point I have to disassociate myself from the task at hand and just drive to the vets.
My vet squeezed me in between surgeries yesterday. He was very sweet and when I mentioned that Moochie was acting better and eating more, the vet assured me that he felt it was the right time. Yes, maybe Moochie could have gone on for a few more weeks, but, he said most people wait until they can see visible signs of suffering in their pet and by that time, the pet is REALLY suffering since they do their best to mask their pain. After it was over, the vet took my hand and moved it around Moochie’s abdomen where I did indeed feel the very large tumor. I then used their restroom where I splashed water on my face, blew my nose and drove to work.
Truly a miserable day.