(Note: This post is about making a decision on putting a loved pet down. It also talks about the final moments and such. I have made this a “read more” post meaning the bulk of it is after clicking the link below. This post is not meant to be argumentative or take a stand, rather explain one person’s thoughts going through everything.)
When is it ever the time to make the decision regarding life or death when it comes to a pet?
I know I tend to usually stay more on the lighter side of things on my blog, but I recently had to tackle this subject. And I researched. I talked to people. I didn’t come to any decisions lightly.
Beyond this post, I’ll have something else about my pet in the coming days. Something I have also been working on writing.
But over the past week or so with my postings being so sporadic (or lack thereof at all last week), I wanted to dive into what others may think. You’ll see why blogging has been far from my mind.
My cat was a little more than 16 years old. Throughout her life, she went through a couple of phases – loveable, hard for others to deal with (she could be a hissing meanie to some, though not to the few she knew well), and back to loveable and extremely personable.
She never was a fan of going to the vet though.
She was, however, always pretty active. She slept like all cats do, but she also moved around and jumped around. She stayed active. She ate (and was picky about what she ate) and drank plenty of water. And she would meow … oh how she would meow for attention.
The only issues I truly remember her having was an occasional bout with constipation, in which she then needed to get a laxative for a few days and she’d be back to normal.
She was also a strictly indoor cat and she never attempted, nor seemed to want to, ever run out and get away. She was content peering through windows and staying warm inside, or loafing in front of or near a fan when it was hot.
But things went downhill sort of quick with her.
Over the past month, give or take, she had lost some weight. Then she stopped going and eating very little. So we gave her the laxative, which seemed to kind of help a little. But she wasn’t regular. She lost weight and you could feel her bones a little more (though you couldn’t tell too much just by looking). I finally started getting worried when she wouldn’t go at all, so it was off to the vet.
That’s where the doc said she seemed dehydrated. He didn’t feel any masses or anything and everything else looked OK, but he thought they should keep her for a bit to see what they could do. They gave her a shot and some other stuff and the next day, she went home. She pooped and ate. Everything seemed to be back on the mend.
A couple of days later, it went down again. She was more lethargic. No eating. A little drinking. A lot of loafing. And her meows seemed a little off – more like a kitten. So she was taken to the vet again last Tuesday.