#euthanized pet

[not-verygoodatnames]

This is a picture - the last one and only one I took - of my Border Collie, Kyla, who recently got euthanized due to old age. We miss you, but it's selfish to keep you alive in this state. You're in a better place now

[disconcertedbismuth]

Sadness, Cat feels, etc.

My cat Twinkle (Twink) was put down tonight due to cancer of the jaw and an inability to continue eating effectively. He was in distress from not being able to eat a warehouse of cat food per minute, as was his custom, and I don’t blame him. 

I’m kind of a mess right now from all the emotion; the flashbacks to the small promise I made a crying kitten in the car ride home from adopting him (”Don’t worry, everything is gonna be alright”) to this afternoon where I picked him up and called him a survivor. I called him a survivor just hours before my parents decided to have him put down, on September 11th.

A lot of people don’t still have hangups about this day, but being from the NYC metro area, I do. So, I felt terrible and then got blindsided that this awful, cursed day also took my pet from me.

I asked my parents not to talk to me about this, about it at all. It hurt more every time one of them just walked up and said some vaguely threatening bullshit about how “he’s not looking good,” or “he’s not eating,” so I just had to get out of the house. And on my way out I hear them talking about having it done. So I go and pick up my cat for what I know is the last time. He smelled pretty bad because he had an open wound on his face. But he was still purring. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on. He was hurting and wanted us to help him like we always had.

I don’t have a cure for cancer. And I’m not a surgeon so I can’t just saw off his jaw and give him a replacement. So I do what I can, and I leave because it’s painful.

And then as I”m waiting for my food in a McDonalds in the mall, I get a seemingly innocuous text from my mom that I can come home. And I just want to roll up and die. The unspoken subtext, obviously being “It’s done.”

And I just have to try not to breakdown in a mall mcdonalds after getting my order. 

And I sit through about twenty minutes of a shitty documentary about close encounters of the third kind and then I just go home. And on the way I break into tears several times because it was the first time I had been alone since I got the news. I’m not proud of it but I almost side swiped a car merging into a lane because I was just so out of it. But it’s new jersey so nobody cares.

And now I’m sitting here typing this out and I know it’s gonna hurt for a while. But I also know it will fade one day. I used to have a cat named Smokey and I can barely remember him dying because it was so long ago. But I know it hurt like a bitch. So, now I just need to hold on, I suppose. 

Every time I see a place he should be, I start crying because I know he’ll never be there again. This is especially problematic because he sat in many critical junctures of the house and I’ll probably keep crying out a quart of water for a few days. Thankfully I have supportive friends, so I’ll get through it.

In short, fuck cancer with literally every sci-fi weapon imaginable. I fucking hate cancer and we need to destroy it. Cancer delenda est or something.