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30 December 2008 @ 06:51 pm
time is never time at all; you can never leave without leaving a piece of you::..  
It started this afternoon, when dad was making a turkey sandwich in the kitchen and I was watching from the window seat, mum making herself a salad on the other counter. Dad left some little scraps of turkey on the cutting board, setting it on the ground so the cat yowling around his feet could eat it.
I watched Cocoa, missing all her teeth but her canines, attempt to eat the scraps and that was when the first crack appeared.
She was mangy because her mouth was so disgusting from the infection that she couldn't clean herself for the pain; she'd been declawed as a kitten so her body was mildly disfigured because she couldn't stretch properly; she was slightly demented in that she howled at random hours; she was missing the litter box and throwing up everything she ate.
The first crack appeared as I watched her attempts to gum the bits of turkey into bite-sized chunks, and I broached the subject.
Mum didn't want to do it because she didn't want to go through the emotional stress of having to take the life of something so very much alive.
Dad didn't take a stance by agreeing with both ends of the argument. He saw what I was trying to say but sympathized with mum.

It was earlier this evening when we went to the vet. We were the only people there other than one other family: a mother and her two girls. The older girl had a toy poodle puppy. We took the cage and sat on the other side of the waiting room. The little girl, maybe 8, had never met a stranger in her life. She bounced over to us, asking to see our kitty, smiling and saying how cute she was! before bouncing over to the fish tank in the corner and commenting on how they each looked like the fish from Finding Nemo.
As we were called into the room, she called goodbye to the kitty.
The crack inside me was starting to resemble a fissure.

We talked to the vet. We discussed all options. Cocoa sat on the cold, slick surface of the examination table, green eyes wide. She didn't make much noise.

It was one of the most horrifying things to ever have to face: looking into the innocent eyes of an animal who has no control whatsoever over her life; to be the one making the decision whether she should live or die; to think of her being laid down, her heart slowly beating out its last moments...
and knowing she'd still be living if you hadn't said anything.

It's not guilt you feel because you're pretty sure you did the right thing, but it still haunts you that you made the decision, the judgment, that you're pretty sure only God has the right to make.

The vet has the courtesy to ask if we want to be there as he does it. Dad thanks him, but we all file out the door to sit back down in the waiting room.
The little girl is still there, and she sees the purple cat carrier and comes bounding up.
She looks up at mum, who is holding the cage, and asks, "Where's the kitty? Why are you crying?"
Mum's hand goes to her face and she chokes out, "She was old."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut to attempt to keep the fresh flood of silent tears from unrestrained onslaught.
The girl is beckoned back to her mother's side, and that fissure became a canyon.




Rest in peace, Cocoa-puff. I promise you, I did it only with the best intentions.
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Current Location: Home.
Current Mood: crushedcrushed
Current Music: "Tonight, Tonight"- PATD cover; "I can feel a hot one"- Manchester Orchestra
 
 
 
Jessicasmittenginger on December 31st, 2008 12:24 am (UTC)
*hugsqueeze* Oh, hun. I know how you feel, dear. And just remember that you did the only thing you could have done. She's not suffering anymore. I know it's hard.

I wish there were more I could say. *hughughughughughug*
Patricia Braverman-Knoperhetoricians on December 31st, 2008 01:20 am (UTC)
Oh Lin .... I'm sorry. :( We let my cat live until her 19th birthday - she died on her birthday, actually - and when she was starting to get sick, I told my parents, and they didn't believe me and wouldn't take her to the vet. And when they finally did .... it was too late, but they tried to save her anyway, so she spent her last day alive moping after being at the vet.

Let's just say I know how you feel and I am glad - the point I was trying to make - that you put her down when you did. She would have not been happy on this earth much longer.