A Good Death

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I wrote a while ago about my 20-year-old cat, Rover. Well, she’ll be 21 in March. (See http://goddessofallthingslovely.blogspot.com/2009/09/knowing-when-to-let-go.html and http://goddessofallthingslovely.blogspot.com/2009/10/red-shutters.html.) As of late, the last week to be exact, Rover has been eating less, peeing in more places around the house, and having difficulty walking.

After talking to Melissa today, who is a veterinarian, I came to the conclusion that perhaps it was time to put Rover to “sleep.” I guess the technical term is euthanasia, which in Greek means “good death.” It was the act of “humanely killing.” I was fine with “euthanasia,” “humanely,” but when I read “killing,” I cringed. Believe me, I didn’t take losing another loved one from my life lightly.

I had gone back and forth for months about what was best for Rover. And, I finally called the vet today. I made an appointment for Monday at 1:30. While talking to the receptionist, I started to cry. She knew Rover; everyone knew Rover there. And, I felt horrible.

I went down to make a cup of tea, and I searched for Rover. I wanted to pet her, hold her, and make myself feel like I had done something good, because I loved her. She wasn’t in Monty’s bed, her usual place to sleep. Just then, I feared that when Iz went out bowling, Rover had gotten out.

I opened the door and saw Barb getting out of her car across the street.
I yelled in a panic, “Barb, is Rover there?!?!”
Barb yelled back, “Yes, she is. Do you want her?”
I answered, “I didn’t know she had gotten out.”
Barb yelled back, “Why don’t you take my cell number?”
I yelled back, “Wait a sec. I’ll be over in a minute.”

I ran across the street, and by the time I caught Barb, she was on her way in the door. She said, “Let me you give our cell numbers. Then if Rover is out, you can call and let us know, so we can let her in.” Barb had wanted to plan for Rover’s continued future, and I knew then, after Monday, Rover did not have a future.

I said, “Barb, I’ve called the vet. I’m going to put her down on Monday.”
Barb started to cry and said, “What? Come in, and tell Rob, too.”
I had surprised her, but I knew I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell her the truth.
When I went in the kitchen, I saw Rover curled up under the dining room table.
Barb said, “Tell Rob.”
I told him that I felt Rover had gotten that much worse, and I felt that it was time to……..[hard to say “it” for what seemed like hours]…put her down.

Barb wanted me to update Rob on all the particulars, perhaps because she was too upset in the moment; and I totally understood that. We chatted in the kitchen, and between my tears, I told them how I felt that it was just time.

Rob asked me what medications she was on, and Barb said, “It seems like she’s happy though.” And then Rob said to Barb, “We’ll talk about it.” Barb said in between her tears, “Well, you know, she can always come over here during the day.” I said I knew that and thanked her. I left, leaving Rover there and Barb in tears.

I needed some time to think, so I went off to the gym to run. When I used to work, everyone thought I was a tad bit crazy for running every day; however, running was oddly enough never about exercise for me. As exercise, it was secondary. Above all, it was the time when I could think most clearly about my life and all that was going on in it.

After I left the gym, I thought about all Barb had said. I knew Rover was near and dear to her heart, given that Rover had lived at her parent’s house during the day for the last few months. I also wondered if Rover somehow even meant more to Barb, because her parents were older. Despite all the love and devotion, which was huge between Barb, Rob, her sister, and her sister’s husband, Barb knew she would eventually lose Eileen and Harold. And here Barb was going to lose Rover first and soon.

At 5:30, the doorbell rang. I opened the door, it was Barb with Rover in her arms. She handed Rover to me, and she said, “Whatever you decide to do….”
Barb gave me permission.
And although, I knew I didn’t need it, it felt that much better knowing that I had it. Barb has loved Rover, not as long as I have but just as much it would seem.

I didn’t say anything, because I was about to cry.
Barb said, “She does seem to be sleeping a lot, and she’s shakier on her feet; it just might be that she’s getting close.”
I said, “I’m sorry I mentioned it, Barb.”
Barb said, “No. I’m glad I know now.”
And then Barb said, hoping there still might be a different outcome, “Rob was thinking about making a flag. It would signal when Rover was in the house and when she was not.”
I smiled.
Barb said, “Okay. Good night then.”

It’s hard enough to lose someone you love; I know this. It’s even harder when you feel you have to consciously make the decision to do so. ♥

P.S. Barb is going to be there with me on Monday. I asked her to, she wants to be there, and it's fitting.

Thank you ♥Liz♥ and ♥Tomas♥.