Sleeping your life away
Took Spider to the vet the other day to determine how her health was. It was determined by the testing that she probably had cancer. For the next couple of days we were giving her Pregnizone or however you spell it, but she kept getting worse. Today, she couldn't walk, and, while she made the effort of eating, it just wasn't happening. After a great deal of discussion last night and a bit more today, we took her to the Pet ER on Luskins hill and had her put to sleep. Basically that consisted of a catheter and an overdose of anesthesia, while she lay in Danielle's arms. The effects were immediate, literally, as Spider stopped breathing seconds after the needle entered the plastic intake. Some of the questions leveled are "does this make us bad people?", "did she really want to go?", "could we have done anything different to prolong the occurance of this shithole eventuality", and "did we do enough for her while she was here?" these are questions that are to be expected, I suppose, as I've never had to put a pet to sleep before. Both my previous cat and my dog are buried in the back yard of the house, put there by my own two mourning hands. This sucks.
I guess it's better that she wasn't alone, but I don't think she really understood what was going on around her anymore, due to a combination of pain and old-age-style confusion. At least it might go a little ways toward making us feel better about the whole thing. Danielle's probably going to want another cat, but I want to hold off on it for a bit. More responsibility in my life is not exactly desired right now, and, in fact, could probably be considered completely unwanted. So how about them apples. In other news, in order to inflict rampant emotional trauma on everyone who has useless, naughty children in the neighborhood, I'm going to plant the legendary Poison Apple Tree in the front yard. Allegedly, merely standing beneath it in the rain is enough to cause burns on the skin, and ingestion does in fact send one into a comatose state. So take that, bitches, I'm bitter and creative.
I guess it's better that she wasn't alone, but I don't think she really understood what was going on around her anymore, due to a combination of pain and old-age-style confusion. At least it might go a little ways toward making us feel better about the whole thing. Danielle's probably going to want another cat, but I want to hold off on it for a bit. More responsibility in my life is not exactly desired right now, and, in fact, could probably be considered completely unwanted. So how about them apples. In other news, in order to inflict rampant emotional trauma on everyone who has useless, naughty children in the neighborhood, I'm going to plant the legendary Poison Apple Tree in the front yard. Allegedly, merely standing beneath it in the rain is enough to cause burns on the skin, and ingestion does in fact send one into a comatose state. So take that, bitches, I'm bitter and creative.