That one hurt the most because that cat was my best friend and it was that was the first time I actually had to make that sort of decision, but I know I made the right one, she wasn't in pain anymore
Definitely the right decision.
I didn't even get to say goodbye. :bawling:
That was my situation with the first pet I had to put down (that I was close too) and with one of my cats.
When I was growing up we had two German Sheperds. One named Frodo (who was really old and we only really got to give him a good home until he did die) and one named Lucky. Frodo died when I was like...4 or something so I don't remember him much. I just remember the day his back gave out and only vaguely.
Lucky (who my Dad bought for my mom while she was pregnant for me while he was away on a hunting trip for a couple months), had her back give out also when I was about 9. We'd grown up together and spent all our days getting in trouble together and she was totally my best friend. But when they took her to get her put down (because she couldn't walk she wasn't eating or drinking either and she was basically going to starve to death) I didn't go because I was only like 9 and scared as hell of seeing her die. So they dropped my brother and I off at my Nanny's house and as soon as they left I regretted it. ALWAYS go with your pets. I've never stopped regretting that and I remember crying the whole time they were gone and the whole time home. It was around Christmas too.
Then I had to put down my cat Harry because he got a bladder infection, but at the time we had a guest staying in the house and he HATED people so he hid away where we couldn't find him. He only came out of hiding because he was in SO much pain. And by that time we found out the vet bill would have been $6000 for a surgery that probably wouldn't work. So my mom came home catless.
After that my cat bandit had cancer. We tried treating her but it got to the point where her leg was rotted and dead. I will never put a cat through treatment like that again. It was terrible.
Then was my cat Mala. This was the first cat that was mine and the one that Faded mentioned above. When I moved to our first apartment I brought Mala with me. She just got sick randomly one day and it was really weird because she was only like 4 years old. Maybe five. She was throwing up but I didn't want to freak out and take her to the vet over nothing. So I was like "If she is still sick tomorrow I'll take her in right away". When I woke up that morning her skin under her fur had turned yellow. I was freaking out but trying to stay calm. I took her to the vet with a huge feeling of hope, but deep down I knew she was going to need to be put down. And when I got there they said to me that the only thing that MIGHT help would be to keep her under intensive care...which cost $800/day and she would be in a lot of pain and it probably wouldn't do much good. It was an easy decision to make even with out the whole "not being able to afford it" bit, but it was still really hard to do. I cried myself to sleep for a good three months. It didn't help that almost exactly a month later we had to put down Faded's dog, Glory. She was such a sweetheart. One of the most well behaved dogs I have ever had, but she had so many problems right from the start. When we took her in, despite being in bad shape, she was so excited to see someone new that she was wagging her tail right until the first needle put her to sleep so they could do the injection. It was so sad and I still wonder if we did the right thing with that.
Recently, my family dog Sheba (who we got from my aunt after Lucky died because my aunt was having a baby and couldn't afford shots for the dog at one point because of it. So she figured it would be best to give her to us) had to be put to sleep. I wish I could have made that but my Dad lives 2 hours away. She was about 13 and it was so sad because she was like a puppy still. She would run around and act all goofy. The only hint that she WASN'T a puppy was some white fur on her face (she was mostly black lab with some terrier and only got the white hair when she got older) and was a LITTLE stiff in her movements compared to when she was actually a puppy. One summer she had heat stroke or something and it really messed her up. It took her a good year and a half to get so far gone that my Dad would finally put her to sleep. She was having seizures, falling down the stairs, going to the bathroom all over the house (when normally she was very good about that), and she would have trouble 'aiming' for her food bowl when she ate. She would bite around it instead or bite the edge of it instead of actually getting food. It was so upsetting to see her like that but my Dad was determined to give her treatment and give her a chance, but I think that is just torture.
*sigh* Long post is long and makes me sad. *hugs to everyone who has lost pets* It's very hard. It's like losing family members.
