The Brad Hole

The past few weeks have been a bit of a rollercoaster. We switched up his baby food from chicken to beef combined with turkey and his appetite picked right back up, and he went back to eating multiple times a day - up from zero. Unfortunately, he wouldn't eat on Saturday or Sunday. Worse yet, he'd picked up a head cold or virus and started sneezing. I spent a lot of time with him yesterday and he slept next to me on the bed (as he has been doing lately) last night. Yesterday was different though - he spent most of the time curled up in a ball. I couldn't get him to purr so I sensed that he'd finally started to succumb to the pressures his body was placing on him.

We took him into the vet this morning, ostensibly for our weekly check-up. His weight was down to an even 11 lbs. It was incredibly difficult to make the decision to euthanize him - there's a sense of arbitrariness to the whole thing - but his condition had finally deteriorated to the point where it was clear his quality of life was going to suffer badly in the immediate future if it hadn't already. The vet pointed out that his immune system was now so weak that he'd have trouble fighting off the infection and it would add to his dehydration problems.

This was the first time Beth and I have chosen to euthanize a pet, so neither of us fully knew what to expect. It's easiest for me to describe this if I stick to the bare facts, otherwise I'll risk "losing my shit" for the hundredth time today. We had to sign a small form stating that Ian hadn't bitten anyone in 15 days and we noted that we wanted an individual cremation in order to get his ashes back.

The vet took him out for a moment to insert a catheter in his front paw to make injection easier. In older cats, it can apparently be difficult to inject directly into the vein. He brought Ian back in and gave us a good 20 minutes with him. He told us what to expect - the actual event will only take a minute or so. In younger cats it can take as quickly as 20 seconds, in older cats it's longer. It all depends on the strength of the circulatory system. He also warned us that he could lose control of his bodily functions. As well, he won't close his eyes - they'd likely remain open.

I can't begin to describe how difficult and painful it was to commit to "yes, we're going to do this" and the first several minutes after we'd made up our minds were probably the most painful of this entire process. It was also difficult because Ian sat there and allowed himself to get the royal petting treatment, even summoning up the ability to purr for a moment.

When it came time for the injection, the vet shot a clear fluid in first, something to do with clearing or cleaning the veins - I'm not sure. He then injected what he termed an overdose of barbiturates. Ian was sitting up as in the picture above, and within maybe a second after injection, fell over. I was completely unprepared for that reaction. The vet held a stethoscope up to his chest while we continued to pet him and told us when he'd finally stopped. I didn't time it, but it was probably well under a minute. Also as warned, Ian didn't close his eyes, but luckily he didn't lose his bodily fluids either. He simply looked like he was laying on his side. The vet left us alone for a few minutes where we both proceeded to "lose our shit" again and get in a few final minutes. The vet gave us the option of staying for as long as we needed - an hour if that's what it took, but I really wanted to go home fairly quickly so I could get it out of my system here. He told us that we didn't have to pay today or stop at the front desk, so we eventually composed ourselves and left.

I put his empty purple cat carrier with its "Ian Oliver" nametag on it in the back seat and Beth drove us home.