I brought Jasmine home 17 years ago. Ever since then she has been my cuddle buddy. The only one at home who would watch scary movies with me. A pain in my side as often as she was my best friend. She was everything a cat should be: mischievous, friendly, getting into trouble, cuddly, a brat, hilarious, and so patient.
On Sunday she ballooned to an uncomfortable size. She was barely eating and wasn't using the bathroom. I knew something was really wrong even though everyone else said it would be fine. I scheduled a vet visit for Tuesday and while I feared the worst I was hoping for the best. X-rays and ultrasound confirmed our fears : a tumor or mass pressing on her intestines. Her abdomen was filled with a fluid that contained cancer cells. The vet simply stated that, "We could do surgery but it won't do anything for Jasmine."
She was already miserable. Usually she is on the move at the vet, looking for a way out. She layed on the table, unmoving. She had no fight left. Taking her home would mean waiting for her to die while she slowly starved to death or the fluid reached her lungs and suffocated her.
I had to say goodbye. I knew when I made the call for an exam that this was possible. I wasn't prepared to hear that my options were letting her suffer or putting her to sleep.
I love you, Jazzy. I was with you for half my life and all of yours. I am so happy I found you at the shelter even when my dad told me "absolutely do not bring a cat home." I was proud to spend my first paychecks on your first vet visit. You've been with me 17 years in body, but will be with me always in spirit.
On Sunday she ballooned to an uncomfortable size. She was barely eating and wasn't using the bathroom. I knew something was really wrong even though everyone else said it would be fine. I scheduled a vet visit for Tuesday and while I feared the worst I was hoping for the best. X-rays and ultrasound confirmed our fears : a tumor or mass pressing on her intestines. Her abdomen was filled with a fluid that contained cancer cells. The vet simply stated that, "We could do surgery but it won't do anything for Jasmine."
She was already miserable. Usually she is on the move at the vet, looking for a way out. She layed on the table, unmoving. She had no fight left. Taking her home would mean waiting for her to die while she slowly starved to death or the fluid reached her lungs and suffocated her.
I had to say goodbye. I knew when I made the call for an exam that this was possible. I wasn't prepared to hear that my options were letting her suffer or putting her to sleep.
I love you, Jazzy. I was with you for half my life and all of yours. I am so happy I found you at the shelter even when my dad told me "absolutely do not bring a cat home." I was proud to spend my first paychecks on your first vet visit. You've been with me 17 years in body, but will be with me always in spirit.