The hardest choice I've ever had to make....
My beloved Merlin was put to sleep at 11am yesterday morning.
He spent a week in the hospital 3 weeks ago for chronic weight loss. It turned out he was diabetic. That bill cost £600.
But once I learnt how to give him his insulin shots twice a day, and changed him to a specialist diabetic diet, he really started to perk up. He started to gain weight, he was active and bright eyed, and so much like my Merlin. I really thought that was it, and I'd get another 5 years or so with him. And he was really fine. Even this weekend, he was fantastic.
But then on Monday, I noticed he was off his food. He was very cold, and lethargic. When I picked him up, there was barely any response. He was lethargic and apathetic. I rubbed some honey on his gums in case he was hypoglycaemic, and his blood sugar had dropped too low. But there was no response. I gave him some tuna to try and entice him to eat, but he wasn't interested. He was also seriously dehydrated. Five or six times on Monday night I thought he had died already. I barely slept.
On Tuesday, I took him in for an emergency consultation with the vet. She took him out of the box, and he just lay on the table, on his side, not moving. He didn't even move when she took his temperature - He just lay there. I think that's when I knew I had lost him. But I had to try. I let them admit him for one night, to try and combat his dehydration and hypothermia.
They rang me Wednesday morning to tell me there had been no change. They told me that his gums were yellow - his liver was failing. I could have him transferred to the PDSA for affordable treatment, but the journey to basildon alone could kill him. They said that if he went into a hospital, he wouldn't be coming out again. I just broke down. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I opted for him to be put to sleep.
When I went in to the vets to see him, because I wanted to be there when it happened, seeing him lying there was just such a shock that my legs buckled. My boyfriend had to catch me and hold me up while I said goodbye to him. He could barely lift his head, or twitch his tail. He tried to stand, but his legs gave way underneath him. And I stayed there, stroking him, and telling him what a good boy he was, and how much I loved him, but now he needed to go to sleep, until they gave him the injection.
And then he just stopped breathing. It was so fast. Seconds. I wasn't ready for it. I just cried my eyes out, stroking him, and telling him I was sorry.
I know he didn't feel it, he just went to sleep. I know that I did the right thing. But it hurts so much. I can't stop crying, and everywhere I look, there are reminders of him. Photo's, collars, toys, you name it. And I feel so guilty, like I should have tried harder, or fought for him, or even noticed he was ill earlier. But he just wanted peace. He had no fight in him any more.
I would give anything to have had today turn out differently. I love that cat so much. He was my best friend.
I always imagined that I'd wake up one morning, and find him curled up at the end of my bed, nearly 20 years old, having died in his sleep. I never wanted this for him. And I never dreamed I'd be the one to put an end to his life. I feel that by signing that consent form, I killed him. It's ridiculous, and emo, and every form of stupid under the sun, but that's how I feel. Like this is all my fault.
Just look at the pictures. The first one was taken this Saturday, the second one on Wednesday, right before he was put to sleep. And he was not anaesthetised in the second one. That's just how ill he was.
God, I miss him so much. I feel like a part of me is missing, and I know he'll never come back. I'll never see him again, and it hurts so damned much.
He spent a week in the hospital 3 weeks ago for chronic weight loss. It turned out he was diabetic. That bill cost £600.
But once I learnt how to give him his insulin shots twice a day, and changed him to a specialist diabetic diet, he really started to perk up. He started to gain weight, he was active and bright eyed, and so much like my Merlin. I really thought that was it, and I'd get another 5 years or so with him. And he was really fine. Even this weekend, he was fantastic.
But then on Monday, I noticed he was off his food. He was very cold, and lethargic. When I picked him up, there was barely any response. He was lethargic and apathetic. I rubbed some honey on his gums in case he was hypoglycaemic, and his blood sugar had dropped too low. But there was no response. I gave him some tuna to try and entice him to eat, but he wasn't interested. He was also seriously dehydrated. Five or six times on Monday night I thought he had died already. I barely slept.
On Tuesday, I took him in for an emergency consultation with the vet. She took him out of the box, and he just lay on the table, on his side, not moving. He didn't even move when she took his temperature - He just lay there. I think that's when I knew I had lost him. But I had to try. I let them admit him for one night, to try and combat his dehydration and hypothermia.
They rang me Wednesday morning to tell me there had been no change. They told me that his gums were yellow - his liver was failing. I could have him transferred to the PDSA for affordable treatment, but the journey to basildon alone could kill him. They said that if he went into a hospital, he wouldn't be coming out again. I just broke down. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I opted for him to be put to sleep.
When I went in to the vets to see him, because I wanted to be there when it happened, seeing him lying there was just such a shock that my legs buckled. My boyfriend had to catch me and hold me up while I said goodbye to him. He could barely lift his head, or twitch his tail. He tried to stand, but his legs gave way underneath him. And I stayed there, stroking him, and telling him what a good boy he was, and how much I loved him, but now he needed to go to sleep, until they gave him the injection.
And then he just stopped breathing. It was so fast. Seconds. I wasn't ready for it. I just cried my eyes out, stroking him, and telling him I was sorry.
I know he didn't feel it, he just went to sleep. I know that I did the right thing. But it hurts so much. I can't stop crying, and everywhere I look, there are reminders of him. Photo's, collars, toys, you name it. And I feel so guilty, like I should have tried harder, or fought for him, or even noticed he was ill earlier. But he just wanted peace. He had no fight in him any more.
I would give anything to have had today turn out differently. I love that cat so much. He was my best friend.
I always imagined that I'd wake up one morning, and find him curled up at the end of my bed, nearly 20 years old, having died in his sleep. I never wanted this for him. And I never dreamed I'd be the one to put an end to his life. I feel that by signing that consent form, I killed him. It's ridiculous, and emo, and every form of stupid under the sun, but that's how I feel. Like this is all my fault.
Just look at the pictures. The first one was taken this Saturday, the second one on Wednesday, right before he was put to sleep. And he was not anaesthetised in the second one. That's just how ill he was.
God, I miss him so much. I feel like a part of me is missing, and I know he'll never come back. I'll never see him again, and it hurts so damned much.