Utterly Horrible

Well, my plan for the cats to fall asleep peacefully in my arms didn't quite go as planned. Ping wouldn't stop puking and Sophie seized. It was heartbreaking. I had to turn my head away because I couldn't stand to see them in pain. But I was there with them when they finally slipped away and I stroked their soft little heads and kissed them as much as I could.

The vet gave them each a sedative to initally calm them down. That's what caused the seizing and the puking (all normal reactions, according to the vet). They were both really dopey and sleepy before the final injection was given. I have to keep telling myself that they were already so far out of it, they never felt a thing. It was so difficult to walk away from that little room and leave their bodies laying on the table. They were laying side by side, exactly how they slept together in life.

It's been a long 24 hours. Yesterday afternoon, I ended up taking a Tylenol 3 to calm myself down. I had a splitting headache from crying and I was starting to hyperventilate. The T3s kicked in pretty quick and it was nice to be in la-la land for awhile and just forget about things.

Mike has done a wonderful job of taking care of me. He has held me while I cried and he keeps reminding me of all the reasons I said we had to do this. He is constantly asking me if I need anything...to take a bath, drink some tea etc. He wanted to go buy me flowers yesterday, but I said that won't heal the hurt. My solace is that my kitties will come back to me in a few weeks in their little blue satchel of ashes. Given that was Mike's first experience with putting down an animal, he agreed with me that he wouldn't have been able to bring their bodies home to bury AND that he couldn't have just left them there to be thrown out. I am so lucky to have a compassionate husband.

So now the healing begins...there have already been so many "firsts" and there will be many more throughout the weeks to come. The first time of going to the bathroom without Ping trying to break down the door. The first morning feeding without all 3 cats meowing. The first night without them sleeping on the bed. The first meal at the table without either Ping or Sophie trying to steal food off my plate.

These last two posts have been more for me than for the readers. I get that there are some of you who roll your eyes that these were just cats. But they were my pets. And I loved them dearly. And I miss them. And it hurts. A lot.

I found a poem yesterday (on one of the many, many pet memorial websites in existence) and it was the first line that caught my eye. No, they did not go quietly. In fact, Sophie got the last laugh on us...when we got home from the vet, we discovered that she had puked all over the bed. No wonder she had nothing left to puke up at the vet :-)

They will not go quietly,
The cats who've shared our lives.

In subtle ways, they let us know
Their spirit still survives.

Old habits still make us think
We hear a meow at the back door.

Or step back when we drop
A tasty morsel on the floor.

Our feet still go around the place
The food dish used to be,
And, sometimes, coming home at night,
We miss them terribly.

And although time may bring new friends
And a new food dish to fill,
That one place in our hearts
Belongs to them. . . and always will.