In Pace Requiscat Scooter

It’s just past 1am Friday and I’m starting to write this before I actually send it out. As many of you know, I visited Scooter Wednesday 3 December. I wrote about it and most of the other visits in my blog. During that visit, Scooter told me it was time, but I didn’t say anything to anyone because I was waiting for final word to make sure. Today (Thursday), at a business dinner, my mobile phone rang with a call from my vet.

The tumour doesn’t need a biopsy. It’s malignant and there are signs it’s spreading. There is no surgical option, there is no chemotherapy option, and there is no radiation option. Sadly, time’s up. She’s in pain and it’s only going to get much worse, quickly.

I asked the doctor if we could bring Scooter home for her final moments. Normally the doctor doesn’t do that, but she would have been willing for me as a special favour except, and I agree with her, that moving Scooter would be a very cruel thing to do, as it’s very painful for her to be moved. Which is why, you will recollect, she couldn’t have the MRI in Fort Lauderdale and we had to sneak her into a people MRI centre that was closer. She just hurts too much where the tumour is pressing into her nerves.

Because of where I was when I received the call (Sunrise) there was no way for me to make it back in time to do it today (Thursday) which probably would have been better instead of making Scooter wait 18 hours more. But I really thought I should be with her.

So, later today (Friday), after my doctor’s appointment (GI), I will go to the vet’s office and meet the vet. I didn’t want to tell anyone in advance, but I had to tell Dad because I’m not going to be at work Friday except for a few moments to change my voice mail, set my email away message and such, so there was no getting around that. Dad was remarkably understanding for a change.

Scooter has been with me since about 1987 (I’m thinking late 1987) when I was in school, and when I first got her or more accurately when she moved in and adopted me — she was between 1 and 2 years old. That’s how me and her vet arrived at her age. Her regular vet confirms this analysis and she’s been seeing the same vet (barring the trips to the emergency vet) since day one.

This has been really hard on me. Scooter is my best friend. I love her more than anyone. I’d find this a lot easier to do to a person than to my cat. If you’re a pet owner, you get this. I realize I’m not the only one to go through this, of course, but she’s been part of my life for over half of it, so this hurts. I decided some years ago that Scooter would be my last pet, and I’m certainly not planning on changing that, so don’t ask.

I have a large number of cat items that would be useful to any cat owners. I will ship them to you free of charge, but I really need them out of here quickly, because looking at them makes me too sad. I have beds, blankets, medicines (prescription and regular), food, treats, houses, litter, litter boxes, carriers, and tons of toys. If you’re interested, you need to contact me via e-mail immediately. It’s all getting binned within 5 days and that would be a terrible waste. Make your cat happy and contact me via e-mail. I just can’t look at it. (Having just returned, walked in and seen her bed, I realize this decision is the right one.)

I know I did everything that could be done, and more than most people would do. This wasn’t ever about the money and charging those thousands of dollars to my credit cards was never even a consideration. I’d have spent all my money if she could be saved and lived a happy, longer life. Quite frankly, I’d much rather be dead right now than her: I’d make the trade. But don’t worry, I’m not planning on doing anything like that, but I am very depressed now. This hurts more than I can explain. I’m dying inside.

I really don’t want to be there for this, but I will. I couldn’t do that to her — leave her alone at the end. I’m going to bring her two more treats (though I’m not sure if she can have them) and her brush. I will brush and cry the whole time. I will be a wreck after so please don’t call.

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All that stuff above was written last night (or early this morning) because I couldn’t sleep. It’s now 2:36pm and I’m back. It’s done. I tried really hard not to totally collapse. I failed. This was definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I went in, and did all the paperwork because I knew I wasn’t hanging around after to do it. I was doing okay — just leaky eyes — until they gave me a choice of urns to select. That’s when I started to really cry.

I went back and visited Scooter in her holding cell. The IVs and tubes were all removed. The original plan was to take one last photo of me and kitty as I’d brought my camera, but neither one of us was in any shape to have a photo. So there isn’t one so you’ll have to make do with what I’ve got — a selection is now on Flickr. I offered her a last Petrodex, but she didn’t even look at it. I brushed her, petted her. She knew. She knew I knew. She wasn’t mad at me.

After brushing her, they picked her up, along with all her bedding as it was the safest way to move her. I would have carried her, except at the point I was in pretty bad shape. They kept asking if I was sure I could do this. The answer was no, but I said, “I’m going to try.” We went to one of the interview rooms where they meet new patients for the first time. Some of the nurses actually were sad too.

In the room, I totally broke down and wailed “I can’t do this” while the tears and snot ran, but I still held on to Scooter. The vet explained there would be a pink injection and then a yellow one (I might have that in the wrong order). If I could have spoken, I’d have asked for my own set.

It didn’t take 90 seconds. They put in the pink one and waited about 60 seconds that’s just a muscle relaxant. Then the yellow one, and it’s over. “She’s gone,” the vet said after checking with her stethoscope. Scooter never closed her eyes the whole time and I never let go. I didn’t let go for a few seconds (it might have been 1 or might have been 100 — time was frozen). Then I ran out the door and drove home. I hate life right now. I miss her so much. I am dead inside.



In Pace Requiescat.

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