There are people who “have pets”.
Then there are people who consider pets as a part of their immediate family.
I’m the latter.
In fact, almost everyone in my immediate biological family is the same in this regard
I grew up with cats.
I don’t remember a time without cats.
True lovers of cats or any animal would know that you don’t “own” them, they’re your counterparts, your daily companions, they’re the ones there that accept you no matter what.
They’re there through thick and thin.
Sickness and health.
No questions asked.
The decision to end their life often falls on you, the person who loves them.
I made this decision recently with my tuxedo Sammy. My beautiful best friend and family member who was in pain and hated the vet.
It was the right decision, I tell myself.
She could’ve stayed in pain and found deeper places to hide in our apartment.
Or, I could’ve admitted her to an animal hospital and hooked her up to an IV for weeks.
Anyone who knows cats knows, they’re terrified of new places and smells.
I could’ve signed Sammy up for IV treatment and it would’ve been horrible for her.
I made the decision to put her down.
A decision that I’ll go over and over in my head for the foreseeable future.
“She perked up for a second that last day!” Is something I might think when the devil on my shoulder suggests that I made a decision to execute my loved one in cold blood.
The reality is, I thought about her quality of life.
I tell myself that.
Still have doubts if I think too hard.
What a weight it is to decide to end a life!
However, I know my cat. I knew she knew it was the end. It could be painless or traumatizing and painful like most humans deaths.
I tell myself that at least. 😕