(no subject)
So the past few entries, despite being a month or three apart, have all been pretty negative. Time to chat up a bit more optimism methinks.
Boris is still around. The vet gave him a prescription for a smutterance of phenobarbitol twice per day. He still has a few fits, but they are rarely violent. He seems to be relatively comfortable and happy, and also a lot more social.
Sadly, however, we did have to let go of Snicker. Her kidneys had completely shut down. She started to pee blood, and any water that she drank when right through seconds later. I got a phone call from my brother around 10 o'clock in the evening, offering to come over and say goodbye since he and Kim didn't think she would make it through the night. Of course, once my Mom and I arrived we began to talk about what should be done. It was decided that, since she was essentially dying of thirst, it was better to take her to the emergency vet and euthanize her comfortably.
It was a very sad night, all things told, but there were a few parts which I am very proud to remember... For one, I drove. We mostly sat in silence, but at one point I put in Sublime's "What I Got" as a final song. It's a funny choice, as it was one of Evan's favorite songs during high school and no doubtedly an anthem for his and Snicker's friendship. Only years later did I drop my bias towards hating-all-things-Evan-liked and listened to it closely. It's a great song, and I remember trying to press it onto my friends overseas a lot.
The next thing which I am proud of is staying by Snicker's side during the injection. When asked if we wanted to be there, my Mom said "No" and I replied "Yes" almost immediately after. I remember her expression--she seemed shocked, scared, and even a little angry at me. Emotions ran high, so I doubt it is worth over-examining the moment, but afterwards she told me that she was very proud of me for doing that.
I like to think that all my talk about 'not caring about death' is more than just show. What I mean is, I purposefully act and talk about death in a very casual way. And sometimes, I feel like it is all a hollow attempt to fool myself. I want people to perceive me as someone who is not afraid of dying and can embrace a ... which most people fear. Partly, I want to feel "dangerous." I like the social "shock value" (and the power which comes along with it). But to be honest, this is a subject which I have genuinely researched and feel like I understand.
So staying with Snicker was something which I desired to do on many levels. For one, I wanted to be there for her. I feel like there is nothing to fear about death as long as you are surrounded by loved ones. And, debates on the humanistic qualities of lethal injection aside, it is an all-too-rare opportunity to die without pain. Although it seems extremely macabre to be proud of driving Snicker on her final trip to the vet, I was comforted by the thought that I am helping her achieve peace. She got a soft, pink blanket to lay on the floor and - while she did not seem to recognize my embrace (her mind may have been going, as well) - I was there to make the transition as easy as possible for her. I got to help take care of her in one of the most difficult moments of life.
(Yes, I am pausing a moment to cry)
The experience was important because I wanted to test myself: my emotional strength, my knowledge, and my courage. Not surprisingly, the moment reminded me that I do not enjoy people dying. Death still hurts (the outsider). And it will never be easy to let go of a loved one, even if you are doing the "right" thing. But I feel very proud for my ability to stay by Snicker's side. And I am more confident that death is a concept which should not be feared--not by itself, at least.
(Another pause, to collect thoughts)
So... yeah. I meant to sit down and write about a wider range of things in my life, but looking back and realizing that I hadn't spoken about all this at all... well, it needed to be said. This was also supposed to be optimistic post, and I feel like I have achieved that. Not to be too cliche, but death reminds us to celebrate life. You know?
And as a final thought, I just want to say that if anyone posts me a poem about romping through rainbows, I am going to punch them in the nose. G'night.
Boris is still around. The vet gave him a prescription for a smutterance of phenobarbitol twice per day. He still has a few fits, but they are rarely violent. He seems to be relatively comfortable and happy, and also a lot more social.
Sadly, however, we did have to let go of Snicker. Her kidneys had completely shut down. She started to pee blood, and any water that she drank when right through seconds later. I got a phone call from my brother around 10 o'clock in the evening, offering to come over and say goodbye since he and Kim didn't think she would make it through the night. Of course, once my Mom and I arrived we began to talk about what should be done. It was decided that, since she was essentially dying of thirst, it was better to take her to the emergency vet and euthanize her comfortably.
It was a very sad night, all things told, but there were a few parts which I am very proud to remember... For one, I drove. We mostly sat in silence, but at one point I put in Sublime's "What I Got" as a final song. It's a funny choice, as it was one of Evan's favorite songs during high school and no doubtedly an anthem for his and Snicker's friendship. Only years later did I drop my bias towards hating-all-things-Evan-liked and listened to it closely. It's a great song, and I remember trying to press it onto my friends overseas a lot.
The next thing which I am proud of is staying by Snicker's side during the injection. When asked if we wanted to be there, my Mom said "No" and I replied "Yes" almost immediately after. I remember her expression--she seemed shocked, scared, and even a little angry at me. Emotions ran high, so I doubt it is worth over-examining the moment, but afterwards she told me that she was very proud of me for doing that.
I like to think that all my talk about 'not caring about death' is more than just show. What I mean is, I purposefully act and talk about death in a very casual way. And sometimes, I feel like it is all a hollow attempt to fool myself. I want people to perceive me as someone who is not afraid of dying and can embrace a ... which most people fear. Partly, I want to feel "dangerous." I like the social "shock value" (and the power which comes along with it). But to be honest, this is a subject which I have genuinely researched and feel like I understand.
So staying with Snicker was something which I desired to do on many levels. For one, I wanted to be there for her. I feel like there is nothing to fear about death as long as you are surrounded by loved ones. And, debates on the humanistic qualities of lethal injection aside, it is an all-too-rare opportunity to die without pain. Although it seems extremely macabre to be proud of driving Snicker on her final trip to the vet, I was comforted by the thought that I am helping her achieve peace. She got a soft, pink blanket to lay on the floor and - while she did not seem to recognize my embrace (her mind may have been going, as well) - I was there to make the transition as easy as possible for her. I got to help take care of her in one of the most difficult moments of life.
(Yes, I am pausing a moment to cry)
The experience was important because I wanted to test myself: my emotional strength, my knowledge, and my courage. Not surprisingly, the moment reminded me that I do not enjoy people dying. Death still hurts (the outsider). And it will never be easy to let go of a loved one, even if you are doing the "right" thing. But I feel very proud for my ability to stay by Snicker's side. And I am more confident that death is a concept which should not be feared--not by itself, at least.
(Another pause, to collect thoughts)
So... yeah. I meant to sit down and write about a wider range of things in my life, but looking back and realizing that I hadn't spoken about all this at all... well, it needed to be said. This was also supposed to be optimistic post, and I feel like I have achieved that. Not to be too cliche, but death reminds us to celebrate life. You know?
And as a final thought, I just want to say that if anyone posts me a poem about romping through rainbows, I am going to punch them in the nose. G'night.