I had my cat Tasha euthanized today. She's been sick several times now with kidney infections and her kidneys were failing. Yesterday she began leaking bloody urine - so I got up early before night shift and took her to the vet. She's also been having behavioral issues - crapping more often on the carpet than in her litter box. I wasn't keen on letting her destroy the carpet.
The vet said he could cure the latest infection but that she'd be back again soon with another and another... and she's been limping around in pain for quite a while. So I decided it was time to have her put down. You know what's weird? I made what I think is the right decision for Tasha, and I had no problem doing it. I signed the paperwork and sat stroking her while they got the injection ready, with very little trepidation.
I was emotionally cool and detached as she struggled through the final indignity of having her paw shaved. And I was cool right up until the moment she went limp, and the vet said "she's gone". And then suddenly I felt like wailing. I sobbed all the way home - I can't imagine what I looked like if anyone happened to glance over. There was a horrible sense of loss (over a cat) that I can't even begin to explain.
I'm going to miss Tasha. She's been my companion since well before I got married. I explained to my 3 yr old Grace that Tasha had gone to the doctor and that she wouldn't be coming back - that she had gone to sleep forever. Grace at first said a couple of times "Tasha will get better and come home.", to which I said "No, Tasha won't be back", and then finally Grace said, "We can get another kitty!"
So I guess Grace understands that Tasha is gone, in her limited way. As I also am beginning to understand in my own limited way.