Being an active part in the death of your most beloved animal is a terrible thing. Death comes, sure. But generally it is unexpected. I know plenty of people have to do this every single day, but that does not make it any easier. You know, this has been a possibility ever since early March. Did we make the wrong decision. I just wish I could know what he was thinking. To know if everything we did was worth it. Did we just prolong his suffering? But I felt as long as he had a fight in him, fight we all would. We lost the fight. Today, at 2:45 we put him to sleep. A vet tech held him down and Dr. Lapari administered the shot while I pet him and held him. I was the last thing he saw. I just hope we made the right decision. You can never be 100% sure. I am having a rough time. I just...I am normally strong...but not when it comes to animals. I have endless empathy for them. A human, I could care less unless I am close to them. It feels so odd, coming home without Pokemon.
We had him since the day he was born. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He had a heart on his side. We fell in love with him and had to keep him. He was the sweetest cat. There was a time where he got outside, and the neighbors scared him off. And he was missing for a year and 18 days...and we found him again on my birthday. He was my favorite animal. He is missed and will continue to be greatly missed.
To bring this blog to a close...I just want to bring up an interesting fact. Papa died on the first day of the semester. I had to go to Mark's class after losing Papa. And now, the very last class I have, with Mark...we had to put Poke to sleep. Funny how things work out, eh?
I feel like I am drowning...