Monday, August 20, 2007

Daddy's Pretty Girl

[Unabashed emoting warning.]

The vet in the emergency room yesterday morning said improvement, if there was to be any at all, would be noticable within 48 hours. I accepted that as a sensible plan. Skids, whom I'd started to suspect a while ago was smarter than she liked to let on, knew better than either of us. This morning, her face said it all: no more. Laying still, looking nearly lifeless except for the movement of her chest, her mouth not opening to accept the medicine of the 48 hour plan others were trying to impose on her, it was one final magnificent act of "I'm the cat here, I'm in charge."

It's a curious thing. I'd long feared the day this decision would have to be made. How would I really know when enough was enough when she couldn't tell me what was going on inside? And would she understand in her heart why someone she'd trusted nearly her whole life was now having her injected with the chemicals that would call it a life?

I should have known the answer all along. I wouldn't be making the decision at all. She would. My job was to listen, and to respect her right - everyone's right - to decide when they're tired of fighting. She was not surrendering. She was taking charge.

She gave me no fight lifting her into the box that would serve as her final carrier. At the vet's office, they were properly compassionate and reserved. Again, no fight being lifted from the box to the table. Did I want to stay during the procedure? I didn't want to, but I said yes anyway. I owed her that. The last face she was going to see was going to be mine, not a technician's. The last voice she would hear would be the one she'd heard countless times before, stroking her head, between her eyes just the way she liked it, telling her one last time she's daddy's pretty girl as she drifted off to her eternal sleep. (This time she didn't have to head-butt me to get me to do it.) I assured her God would take good care of her, even better than we were able to, and that she should behave for Him and not wet His couch.

With the second injection I turned my head slightly, and I think the doctor saw it, because she gently told me they don't close their eyes.

Finally the doctor held a stethescope to Skids' chest, and said softly, "she's gone."

She's in heaven now, probably trying to find who in God's household she can tap on the hand with her paw and get something to eat. Whoever it is will surely find it as adorable as I did and give her anything she wants.

Rest in peace, sweet girl. And know, always, that I am really glad you were here.

15 comments:

zcatzmeow1 said...

I am so sorry for you.  Sorry there wasn't anything you could do for her, but know you did the best you could and that is what matters.  It it the hardest thing to do, I know, but she'll always be with you.  She'll have wings in doggie heaven.  

astoriasand said...

Awwwwww I am so sorry you have lost your beloved pet.My heart goes out to you and yours Prayers being said.Take Care God Bless.Kath
astoriasand http://journals.aol.co.uk/astoriasand/MYSIMPLERHYMES

amy122389 said...

I replay that scene over and over in my head.  It never gets less painful for me.
:-/

~Amy

sugarsweet056 said...

So sorry to hear of your loss, please accept my condplences. Skids is free of pain now, & purring like a young kitten at the Rainbow Bridge.
Mentioning you & her in my post today, will send a few of my readers to offer support. {{{{}}}}
God bless,
Sugar

http://journals.aol.com/sugarsweet056/MYBELOVEDFURRBABIES/

jeanno43 said...

I am in tears reading this because I have been through it on more than one occasion.  I wrote a journal in tribute to our beloved dog who passed last year and yes, we had to make that final decision.  A true pet lover always does the right thing for their pet, no matter how hard it is.  You will always have wonderful memories of her, she will always remain part of your life.  She is now with all the other J-Land pets at the Rainbow Bridge and all her pain is gone.  Rest happy, Skids.

http://journals.aol.co.uk/jeanno43/JeannettesJottings/

chat2missie said...

I'm so sorry!!
Missie

my78novata said...

So sorry to hear of your loss. I pray you find peace in knowing that skids knew your love for her and is awaiting your path back to her one day and clearning it with ease for you. Im sure she is your guardian angel now.

astaryth said...

I'm so sorry for you... and I understand exactly how hard it is! I went thru the same "How will I know it is time" thing when my kitty had cancer. I didn't want her to suffer, but didn't want to do it while she was still able to enjoy life either. I should have known she would know better than I. One morning we got up and you could just tell, almost as if she spoke the words, that it was time and she was done with fighting.

It is sooo hard to lose one of the furbabies, but they fill our lives with such joy...

csandhollow said...

I am so sorry.Over that rainbow bridge she will be waiting on you.

pharmolo said...

Sugar send me your way. Want to offer condolences - having been there in a slightly different setting myself. Skids is in a better place now, beyond the Rainbow Bridge.

Guido
http://journals.aol.co.uk/pharmolo/NorthernTrip

nhd106 said...

I don't have the words that can express the sympathy I offer you.   Just know that I truly hope that the pain eases with time...but that the memories don't.

Nancy

goodfairy63 said...

Came over from Sugars blog. I see from comments below I recognize many of her readers. :)
Wanted to offer my sincerest sympathy in your loss. You'll have pain & anguish, but beautiful memories. {{}}
Sue

gazker said...

Be strong mate, she meant the world to you.
Gaz

rdautumnsage said...

((Hugs)) These fur kids of ours tend to pull no punches when it comes to love and losing them. Skid's knew she was loved and wanted. You gave her the liberty to have her own attitude and personality. Rest assured my dear friend somewhere over the rainbow bridge she is busy making herself somone else's nuisance as only she can. She left paw prints across your heart to know she was there and will always remain a part of you. (Hugs) Indigo

faveanti said...

I never had a cat Ben, we've always had a dog (different ones of course through 36 years) but it never gets any easier.  We always fear a decision such as the one you just had to take but, it's true with dogs too, it never is your decision.  They give you their permission to go ahead.  
love, Angie, xx
http://journals.aol.co.uk/faveanti/canyouallhearmeattheback/