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Aphrodite · 04-05-2004, 08:01 PM

Oh Catbelly I feel awful for you. What a hard time you are going through.

No one can tell you to do anything and the decision, you already know, is yours to make.

Because you asked, I will offer my own story.

My dog Blue. She was the best dog you could even imagine. One of those perfect dogs. Well behaved, good dog. Stories of heroics and genuine adoration between us. After babies, marriage, separation, 8 moves, camping trips, break ins, and all sorts of regular life happenings, Blue was 12 and was diagnosed with CHF. Congestive Heart Failure. I was able to medicate her with the same medications humans use, and she had no apparent discomfort. I made it a vow to her that I would not let her suffer.
One day she was no longer able to get on the bed. The next night she was too uncomfortable to lay down (her belly was bloated and she couldn't breath laying down.) I sat up with her all night and let her finally sleep with her body draped over my legs and her belly hanging between. I knew that this had to be the end. I wanted to keep her with me SOoo badly. I also knew that she wasn't going to get better and the only thing being alive meant for her was hurting.
I made the appointment the next day. I took her to the vet. I told them what had to be done. They were about to take her into the other room and I told them that I was going to be at her side. My dog was given the best gift I could give her at that point. I took her on my lap and hugged her and kissed her while they gave her the first shot. I was petting her head and telling her I Loved Her while they gave her the last shot. I said "Time to go Na-night" and she did. In my arms like so many times before.
No more Pain. No more struggle just to breathe. I took her home and buried her.
I lived up to the trust and respect she gave me.

OK I need tissue. Don't let the vet make you feel guilty. Do what your heart says. And don't be afraid to demand they do it the way YOU want them to. That (previously hard assed) Country Vet cried as hard and as long as I did that day and then sent me sympathy cards.
ok done.

catbelly · 04-05-2004, 08:16 PM

Gah I need tissue too

Aphrodite that is an awesome story ... I would feel ridiculous saying this out loud to many people but I think you will understand ... Maurice has been my buddy/co-pilot through all sorts of life crap - unconditional love, goofy catly manoeuvres that remind me that life is funny (is my face so comfy that he needed to sleep on it?!), thorough and diligent grooming of my hands and face (ack what a rough tongue he has!!), cuddles at night and in the morning, the occasional comedic nip on the arse.

Bleah. Thanks again everyone, I feel so sad but it's so great to know you guys understand.

Wldchld · 04-05-2004, 11:42 PM

It is always so nice to see all the nice things everyone writes about their pets. I used to drive my parents nuts, w/ all the critters.

Avalon I think you have a housefull like I do.lol

Catbelly, you care about Maurice, a lot, I think you probably have a good idea from his behavior what is best for him. My vet (now my friend) gave me the same advice that rapscalious rob gave you. "Go w/ your heart." She said check everything out before you make a decision, because sometimes that slim chance works, my Chauncey only had a 10-15% chance of living through surgery. But you kinda know from your furry kids when you have tried enough, we tried for a week w/ Mama Kitty but she couldn't fight the poison & heal. Just follow your heart. I am really sorry about your kitty.

Klynne · 04-05-2004, 11:42 PM

Quote:

Originally posted by catbelly
AAAAAHHHHHHH you guys. Thanks PFP

I just talked to one of the docs at the clinic ... I suspect him of trying to screw me for more money ... Maurice has feline leukemia, he's in bad shape (anemia, heart murmur, not eating, seizures). Doc#1 advised me, very sincerely and compassionately, that further treatment was possible, but, in the end, just a prolonging of his life when the quality of his life may not be good. Doc#2, whom I just spoke to, is giving me the guilt trip "if it were MY cat," etc. and trying to get me to put him on antibiotics again (not for the cancer, for related possible bacterial infections), and suggesting medication to prolong his life.

I feel really pissed but also ... having a hint of doubt about the decision to euthanize him. In my heart I feel it's right but this doctor has put the niggling doubt in my mind.... part of me is screaming, "manipulative money-grubbing bastard!!" but the other part, the part that is having a hard time being in charge of another being's life/death ... that part is second-guessing. Well. I know what I will do, but I am now 99% rather than 100% and I feel really bitter at that damn man. If he tries to guilt trip me again when I bring Maurice in I will not be responsible for the state of his balls when I leave.

Anyone have any stories / thoughts?

According to my brother, who is a vet, Dr. #1 is right, and Dr #2 is wrong. See my PM. So sorry about Maurice.

Wldchld · 04-05-2004, 11:46 PM

Quote:

Originally posted by Audreyvgs
Thanks for that one too, PFP. Momma Kitty's eatin one bite of food an hour now, skinny as hell! She's taken off tonight, I don't know where she is, but damn! she's gettin tiny. I've calculated that she is somewhere in the range of 16+ years old. She spent most of her life outdoors, but now is just content to be lookin at me, altho she does get walked over by the dogs. Her time is right around the corner, I fear.

awww! How did she get so skinny? I know I missed something sorry. Geez 16yrs! Little old lady.

priceyfatprude · 04-05-2004, 11:52 PM

Aphrodite needs to put a warning label on her post.

We adopted Spike in 1995. His owners had both died & none of their children could take him. We got him from a couple who rescued dogs & brought them to their farm. Spike used to like to chase the cows around the pasture & bark at them.

My parents backyard is huge, and Spike used to crawl onto the picnic table & survey his yard. He killed chipmunks, squirrels, bunnies, anything that came into his yard. He was a good hunter.

I came home for Christmas 1996, and Spike yelped when he yawned a bit too big, and we examined him; he turned out to have a lump on his cheek, it was small, nothing to worry about, right?

Wrong. The lump was bone cancer, malignant & fast-metastasizing. He deteriorated very quickly. (about 2 months)

He couldn't open his mouth very wide, so my mom gave him this Gainesburger-type dog food, and crushed up aspirins for the pain.

My parents had a decision to make, and the Monday of the week they did it, Spike looked up at my mother like, "Oh Momma, please, why am I in so much pain? Can't you do something?" My parents took him to the vet a day or two later.

With Odie, his owners both worked 8 hours a day & had him for 3 years. They kept him in the bathroom while they were at work, causing him to have horrible horrible abandonment issues. He never left my mother's side. He had kennel cough and kind of a backwards-wheezing thing that he'd do occasionally. But besides being clingy he was a pretty good watchdog. Cuddly, sweet, innocent baby, very playful, good boy.

Well, turned out he had canine AIDS, his immune system just couldn't handle getting sick.

He wouldn't eat & wouldn't eat. I told my mom to take him to the vet on Thursday, she didn't, then called me Sunday morning *sobbing*, and like a jerk, I screamed at her that I told her to take him in on Thursday. So she took him to the emergency vet's, they hooked him up to an IV. It was taking all the energy he had just to breathe. Eating was too much of a strain on him. But with the IV in, he was almost his old self. But my parents couldn't afford to have him on the IV 24/7, so they made the decision.

I had to drive past there on my way to work that morning & I almost turned into the parking lot, went in & got my puppy & left with him.

But I didn't. The quality of his life was being compromised. I had been sitting on the couch w/him & Wolfgang, feeding them bits of apple, and Odie wouldn't eat any. That was the day I told her to take him back to the vet. His lil head felt warm under his fur.

But for as much as I miss him, I'm glad he isn't in pain anymore.

Your decision is up to you. You know we will support you whichever way you decide. *hug*

catbelly · 04-06-2004, 02:47 PM

Thanks again you guys - this is so sad for me. I am thinking that today is the day. The SPCA here is really good.

Last night I got home and he was tucked away in his little cubbyhole (his private space ... a small cupboard that's tucked away behind my bed, hard to explain the logistics but it's a small dark space that I put an old shirt of mine in, and he goes there when he wants to be safe - e.g. when I'm vacuuming). He came out to see me when I came home but went back to his spot after a few minutes. I moved his water and ham up to the bed on a tray so he wouldn't have to go far if he was hungry.

He's a little more alert today, which makes things harder. He slept with me all night last night and ate a tiny bit of ham.

Wah. Thanks for all the stories and support.

04-05-2004, 08:01 PM	#16
Aphrodite Myth Demeanour Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: My tent Posts: 3,041	Oh Catbelly I feel awful for you. What a hard time you are going through. No one can tell you to do anything and the decision, you already know, is yours to make. Because you asked, I will offer my own story. My dog Blue. She was the best dog you could even imagine. One of those perfect dogs. Well behaved, good dog. Stories of heroics and genuine adoration between us. After babies, marriage, separation, 8 moves, camping trips, break ins, and all sorts of regular life happenings, Blue was 12 and was diagnosed with CHF. Congestive Heart Failure. I was able to medicate her with the same medications humans use, and she had no apparent discomfort. I made it a vow to her that I would not let her suffer. One day she was no longer able to get on the bed. The next night she was too uncomfortable to lay down (her belly was bloated and she couldn't breath laying down.) I sat up with her all night and let her finally sleep with her body draped over my legs and her belly hanging between. I knew that this had to be the end. I wanted to keep her with me SOoo badly. I also knew that she wasn't going to get better and the only thing being alive meant for her was hurting. I made the appointment the next day. I took her to the vet. I told them what had to be done. They were about to take her into the other room and I told them that I was going to be at her side. My dog was given the best gift I could give her at that point. I took her on my lap and hugged her and kissed her while they gave her the first shot. I was petting her head and telling her I Loved Her while they gave her the last shot. I said "Time to go Na-night" and she did. In my arms like so many times before. No more Pain. No more struggle just to breathe. I took her home and buried her. I lived up to the trust and respect she gave me. OK I need tissue. Don't let the vet make you feel guilty. Do what your heart says. And don't be afraid to demand they do it the way YOU want them to. That (previously hard assed) Country Vet cried as hard and as long as I did that day and then sent me sympathy cards. ok done. __________________ Monkey on the Halfshell

04-05-2004, 11:42 PM	#18
Wldchld in the middle of it Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: Texas Posts: 160	It is always so nice to see all the nice things everyone writes about their pets. I used to drive my parents nuts, w/ all the critters. Avalon I think you have a housefull like I do.lol Catbelly, you care about Maurice, a lot, I think you probably have a good idea from his behavior what is best for him. My vet (now my friend) gave me the same advice that rapscalious rob gave you. "Go w/ your heart." She said check everything out before you make a decision, because sometimes that slim chance works, my Chauncey only had a 10-15% chance of living through surgery. But you kinda know from your furry kids when you have tried enough, we tried for a week w/ Mama Kitty but she couldn't fight the poison & heal. Just follow your heart. I am really sorry about your kitty. __________________ Keep your words soft & sweet, just in case you have to eat them.

04-05-2004, 11:52 PM	#21
priceyfatprude girthy pickles Join Date: Feb 2003 Location: under your desk Posts: 9,313	Aphrodite needs to put a warning label on her post. We adopted Spike in 1995. His owners had both died & none of their children could take him. We got him from a couple who rescued dogs & brought them to their farm. Spike used to like to chase the cows around the pasture & bark at them. My parents backyard is huge, and Spike used to crawl onto the picnic table & survey his yard. He killed chipmunks, squirrels, bunnies, anything that came into his yard. He was a good hunter. I came home for Christmas 1996, and Spike yelped when he yawned a bit too big, and we examined him; he turned out to have a lump on his cheek, it was small, nothing to worry about, right? Wrong. The lump was bone cancer, malignant & fast-metastasizing. He deteriorated very quickly. (about 2 months) He couldn't open his mouth very wide, so my mom gave him this Gainesburger-type dog food, and crushed up aspirins for the pain. My parents had a decision to make, and the Monday of the week they did it, Spike looked up at my mother like, "Oh Momma, please, why am I in so much pain? Can't you do something?" My parents took him to the vet a day or two later. With Odie, his owners both worked 8 hours a day & had him for 3 years. They kept him in the bathroom while they were at work, causing him to have horrible horrible abandonment issues. He never left my mother's side. He had kennel cough and kind of a backwards-wheezing thing that he'd do occasionally. But besides being clingy he was a pretty good watchdog. Cuddly, sweet, innocent baby, very playful, good boy. Well, turned out he had canine AIDS, his immune system just couldn't handle getting sick. He wouldn't eat & wouldn't eat. I told my mom to take him to the vet on Thursday, she didn't, then called me Sunday morning sobbing, and like a jerk, I screamed at her that I told her to take him in on Thursday. So she took him to the emergency vet's, they hooked him up to an IV. It was taking all the energy he had just to breathe. Eating was too much of a strain on him. But with the IV in, he was almost his old self. But my parents couldn't afford to have him on the IV 24/7, so they made the decision. I had to drive past there on my way to work that morning & I almost turned into the parking lot, went in & got my puppy & left with him. But I didn't. The quality of his life was being compromised. I had been sitting on the couch w/him & Wolfgang, feeding them bits of apple, and Odie wouldn't eat any. That was the day I told her to take him back to the vet. His lil head felt warm under his fur. But for as much as I miss him, I'm glad he isn't in pain anymore. Your decision is up to you. You know we will support you whichever way you decide. hug __________________ "We like your board's features...but don't care about it's people"

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04-05-2004, 08:16 PM	#17
catbelly monkey Join Date: Sep 2002 Location: the north Posts: 1,757	Gah I need tissue too Aphrodite that is an awesome story ... I would feel ridiculous saying this out loud to many people but I think you will understand ... Maurice has been my buddy/co-pilot through all sorts of life crap - unconditional love, goofy catly manoeuvres that remind me that life is funny (is my face so comfy that he needed to sleep on it?!), thorough and diligent grooming of my hands and face (ack what a rough tongue he has!!), cuddles at night and in the morning, the occasional comedic nip on the arse. Bleah. Thanks again everyone, I feel so sad but it's so great to know you guys understand.

04-06-2004, 02:47 PM	#22
catbelly monkey Join Date: Sep 2002 Location: the north Posts: 1,757	Thanks again you guys - this is so sad for me. I am thinking that today is the day. The SPCA here is really good. Last night I got home and he was tucked away in his little cubbyhole (his private space ... a small cupboard that's tucked away behind my bed, hard to explain the logistics but it's a small dark space that I put an old shirt of mine in, and he goes there when he wants to be safe - e.g. when I'm vacuuming). He came out to see me when I came home but went back to his spot after a few minutes. I moved his water and ham up to the bed on a tray so he wouldn't have to go far if he was hungry. He's a little more alert today, which makes things harder. He slept with me all night last night and ate a tiny bit of ham. Wah. Thanks for all the stories and support.