{I originally posted this on December 5, 2013 to The Royal Blogtini, but I wanted to put it here too. The entire post in its entirety is after the jump, so that those of you who aren’t interested don’t have to read it.}
My heart is still broken over Sasha (and I’ve been crying, a lot). I didn’t think it was possible to miss a pet this much, but I guess when you had the pet for the majority of your life (22 out of 26 years – and she was my aunts cat for about 1 year before that!) it is literally like losing a piece of yourself.
I miss her so much, I feel like a little piece of my heart is empty. Or missing.
We took her to the vet at 7pm on December 3, 2013. I had made the appointment that morning, spent the entire day at work second guessing myself and just feeling absolutely awful, and then went home. For a couple hours before heading to the vet we spent time cuddling her, giving her treats, and making sure she knew she was loved. She was happy and she felt loved. I know she did.
I stayed in the waiting room because I didn’t think I would be able to let the vet anywhere near my precious girl. My boyfriend went into the room with her and about 30 minutes later, as I sat crying on a bench, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up, expecting it to be my boyfriend, but it was the vet – who we’d only met a few times prior to that. She said she wanted to give me a hug, because she knew how badly I was hurting. She told me not to beat myself up, and that I had done far more than most people are willing to do for a 20+ year old cat that has been diagnosed with kidney disease.
My boyfriend told me last night that he’s taking this very hard too. While I was looking for guidance as to whether or not it was the “right” time to put her down, he wouldn’t weigh in and kept saying that since it’s my cat only I could make that decision, and he didn’t want to influence me one way or the other. So, I essentially made the decision on my own (well, with lots of consultations with the vet, my parents, boyfriend, his parents… and basically everyone I’ve spoken to in the last few weeks) and simply notified him that it was time and I made an appointment.
He told me last night that because he only had a few hours of notice, it hit him like a ton of bricks and he wasn’t ready. Neither of us were. I made the decision and I stuck to it, because I felt that I needed to take the band-aid approach. Quick. No more thought. Just do it. Because I knew if I thought about it any longer I would change my mind and risk putting my lovely cat in a situation where her illness started to cause her pain and suffering. And I did not want that.
But I’m still questioning myself. Was it the right time? I know for a fact we didn’t wait too long, but did we do it too soon? Could I have had another few weeks with her being pain free and happy?
My heart is broken.