Tuesday, 20 July 2010


Had to take my cat to be put down at the vet today. We all knew it was coming, she's 18 years old, the bionic cat, too haughty to succumb is beneath her as death. Well the last few weeks she'd lost a helluva lot of weight and just peed everywhere. Then last night she went straight downhill. It was horrible to see her like that, eyes weeping, soaking wet from wee, couldn't stand. We decided it was time to do something. We weren't sure if the vet was open and my couldn't afford to have her put down. She suggested smothering. I off handly mentioned giving her an overdose of my mums insulin. Eventually I just said why the fuck are we even discussing this? Would it be better to let her suffer overnight than try and dispatch her our selves? Luckily it turned out the vet was open, only for another 20 minutes. I made the phone call and explained to her that our cat needed to be put out of her misery right now. She very kindly fitted us in, she said they would rather stay late at work than let her suffer. That just made me bawl.

I paid the bill. It seemed only right. Being only 1 year old when my family got her we essentially grew up together. We have 4 cats but she was the one I was closest to. She had this habbit of everytime you bent down to fuss he just would jump up onto your shoulder and hang there like a baby. Now I'm not one of those pet owners who treat their pets like children, but when my mum suggested taking her out ourselves to save the cost I flat out refused. The humane way was the only way. I told her its what makes us different. She said "It's what seperates the men from the boys?" and I replied "No, it's what seperates the humans from the monsters." So I paid the bill, and Stripy looked me right in the eye while they injected 3 times, finally in the kidneys because she was so dehydrated the couldn't find a vein. I think it was for the best. Stripy never meowed in her whole life, but this afternoon she was, pretty much, screaming.

No comments:

Post a Comment