Life and death decisions and playing God.
At 3 :00 this morning I found myself Googling the following question: "How do you know when it's time to put your cat to sleep?" Not the most upbeat topic for only my second ever blog post, but hey - I already warned you that this wasn't going to be about blanket scarves and tablescapes.
What led me to searching for life and death answers at this early (actually, late) hour was our third night in 6 months, spent at The Elizabeth Street Veterinary Hospital. Our sweet little girl, Cattington, has a severe heart condition and has already thrown two large clots which temporarily paralyzed her. Somehow she was able to battle back from those terrible episodes (the girls at Hyde Park Vet call her their "Miracle Kitty"), but she has become very frail and tired and it is becoming increasingly difficult to get her to eat her food, much less the three different kinds of medication she has to take each day. When she cuddles with us or sleeps next to us at night, she stretches and purrs and seems content to be the most pampered and adored member of our little three person family. But more and more often she sleeps under our bed for most of the day, and when I gaze into her eyes she looks so tired and sad that it breaks my heart.
Tonight my husband came home from work and as he usually does, gave me a perfunctory kiss hello on the cheek and headed to the bedroom to see his favorite girl - Cattington. She was under the bed, but came out and jumped up next to him when he called her. He was rubbing her belly and she was purring up a storm when she suddenly started struggling to breath and collapsed on the bed. We immediately rushed her to the hospital where they said that her lungs were filled with fluid and she possibly had a clot in her lung as well. The Vet did not come out and say that we should put her down, but mentioned the words critical, humane, suffer and reoccurring several times. She said it was possible to remove the fluid from her lungs but that in all likelihood it would come back - not in a year or 6 months, but potentially in a week or two. She told us if it was our choice to proceed with treatment, that we were to go home and that she would call us in the morning, or before that if anything else happened.
Which is all why I am sitting on my couch sobbing at 3, no, 4 AM asking the Internet Gods to tell me the right thing to do. Am I being selfish by trying to keep her alive because I can't face being without her? Am I being stubborn by refusing to accept the fact that she is seriously ill and will not get better? Am I being blind to the possibility that she is suffering and can only see her moments of what I perceive as happiness in our company?
According to yourcat.co.uk these are the questions I should be asking myself:
Is my cat obviously showing signs of continual or recurring pain? Continual? No Recurring? Yes, when she has one of these episodes
Has my cat stopped eating or drinking? No, but she eats very little.
Has my cat stopped following a reasonably normal pattern of behaviour? What is normal? She is old, she is ill. Maybe sleeping most of the day IS a normal pattern of behavior for her now?
Has my cat stopped interacting with me normally and showing signs of contentment? Yes, No.
So, what do we do? Right now my wish is to bring her home for a while. To take even more photos of her than we already have, to feed her fresh tuna and salmon, to kiss her head and nuzzle her neck and rub her belly until our fingers are numb. And then - at some perfect time, after all the snuggles and prayers and loving words have been said - call the Vet to come to our home and send our baby to wherever our adored companions go when their time with us is over. That is the plan. I just don't know how you know when the time is right. I don't know how you ever make that call. How can you possibly ever know when it's the right time to say that final goodbye?
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