As we've mentioned in the past, our pleasantly plump applehead siamese, Linus, is getting on in years, and has recently developed a mass on the side of his head. We took him in a couple of weeks ago as he was slowing significantly, and the vet drained some fluid, gave the poor guy an enema, put him on some antibiotics and bowel lossener, and said his blood work all looked good, and Linus might even feel lots better after we cleared out his GI track.
Linus felt worse. He fought, literally, tooth and nail taking his meds, stopped cleaning himself very well, started scratching fur off the side of his head around his mass and thus leaves little spots of blood everywhere, and started getting all boney and old-looking. Mike and I made the very difficult decision to have him put down. We made the appointment for this afternoon. I had to work for a few hours this morning, but now I'm home, planned on soothing and lovin' on Linus for a few hours before loading him into the car to go and get Mike from school and then on to the vets.
And of course, Linus is more personable today than he has been in weeks. Presently he's sitting on my legs, purring away. Does he know? I know he doesn't... I've barely seen him awake over the past few days, let alone snuggling and purring. Have we made the right decision? What if he's fine, and we're being selfish, not wanting to force feed him pills, clean up after him, etc.? How do you make a decision like this? I know this is nothing like with people, but so hard all the same. In all our years of having pets as a kid, Mom and Dad made these decisions, they were the adults, the parents, they took care of these things. But now I am responsible for ending a life, all be it feline. I know this sounds terrible, but I almost wish Linus would've just died so that the responsibility of such a decision was lifted.
So I'm doubting. And I'm sad... I'm sure we'll be fine, just what I'm thinking, right now.