Eulogy for Kit Kat

Today I paid someone $170 to kill my cat.

Truth be told, she had been looking bad for a while. Due to various changes in the family-being pregnant, having said kid, buying a house, Mike's mom...I really couldn't pinpoint when she took a downward turn. She seemed to have lost fur, she walked down the stairs funny, she always had something leaking out of her eyes and nose, she slept constantly (no, it was even a lot for a cat. Really.), and she had lost a great deal of weight. I didn't even know how much weight until today.

She weighed 7.8 lbs. That includes the cat carrier.

Kit Kat had been diagnosed with a thyroid problem several years ago. They had told me then that too much thyroid medicine could cause liver problems. I had forgotten all about it till today when the vet explained to me that we had been giving Kit Kat a dose of medicine based on her weight 3 years ago and that she had probably gone into liver failure. The vet said the best option was euthanasia.

Now, I thought had prepared myself for this. When I made the appointment this morning (after finding blood on the floor this morning), I had pretty much determined it would come to this. I had even discussed it often with my family with often no emotion at all or even (admittedly) jokingly. You see, Kit Kat was not really ever a friendly cat. She was happiest left to her own devices (and treats). I was never really attached to her, except for the time right after my parents moved to Hawai'i when I felt alone and Kit Kat seemed like my only link to my childhood and my parents. Kit Kat was even almost friendly during this time. Once Mike and I got Igor though, she became distant again. And lately I have spent more time cleaning up after her than paying attention to her. Admittedly, I did often feel like she was a nuisance and an inconvenience. And yes, I do feel horrible for that.

But when the time came and the verdict was read, I (suprisingly to myself) broke down.They asked me if I wanted to take her home for one last night (no), be there during the euthanasia (no) and if I wanted to see her one last time (no). Then I recanted-I at least owed her an apology for ordering her death, right? So they brought her in. And she did look pathetic-essentially a walking bag of bones. You could see her rib cage and her hip bones clearly in the flourescent lights. I asked for some cat treats to give her (I had been giving her some all day) and she ate them up greedily and they took her away.

The vet said this was the best option and I have to believe her. And the vet technician said that 15 years was a long time for a cat to live which meant that I had been taking good care of her. The lies felt good but I know I didn't give her as much love and attention as she probably needed, especially toward the end. And I feel horribly guilty for making the decision to have her killed (I have to be honest with myself, she was not "put to sleep", I had them kill her).

In short, it was much harder than I imagined it would be. I can't imagine how people can make the decision to pull a loved one off life support. Don't get me wrong-I am in no way condemning this. But if I got this emotional about a cat that I didn't even like much, what if I have to make this decision one day about my parents, my husband, or (fear of all fears) Mathilda?

I can't fathom it.