My oldest girl scratching her cat, Mitzi. Mitzi is the one who was so sick a few weeks back and yesterday, we had to put him to sleep. He got much worse very quickly and there just wasn't anything else they could do. They could give him more meds which would give him a good month but then he would deteriorate again. It just seemed kinder to let him go. We were all with him when they gave him the shot and then he just wasn't there anymore.It hit the kids hard and it's bothered me more than I thought it would. I was raised with cats and am used to them dying, but I've never had to make that decision for one of my own cats. He had a particularly strong bond with my oldest who, at nineteen, was able to get a tattoo without my permission, ahem. I gave it anyway, though. She tattooed his name on her shoulder. I figure it made more sense, as a tattoo, than anything else she had proposed and it helped her get through it, so what the heck.
I'll give his leftover meds to the doctor when we pick up his ashes. They'll donate them to a pet owner who has trouble paying for them. Ironically, that's how we got the last doses.
