I hope I did the right thing... *sigh*

I always have such a hard time with euthanasia.  Not that putting a loved one 'to sleep' (how quaint!) should ever be easy, but I am always completely torn asunder when one of our beloved beasties is in so much pain or distress that there is nothing else to do but say goodbye.  While I would love to be writing about how much fun I had on my little adventure to see Billy Connolly at Massey Hall on Saturday night, I am just so darned sad today.  I can't even muster a single chuckle when I think about seeing my favourite comedian for the third time, this time at one of the world's most beautiful and historic venues.

Yesterday morning I had to have Norrie put 'to sleep'.

For those of you who are not familiar with my furry family, Norton (Norrie) was a beautiful, elderly tortoiseshell cat.  My gran adopted Norrie an amazing SEVENTEEN years ago from a cat rescue agency here in Hamilton.  A victim of population explosion, little Norrie (I named her Norton... gran and I were watching 'The Honeymooners'... ha ha) was looking for a quiet home after being an abused, neglected barn cat for the first year of her life.  Gran took her in and she lived a quiet happy life for many many years from the comfort of the back bedroom.  When I moved home from Kingston five years ago, and moved in with gran to help her out, Norrie and I became really good buddies.  It took her a while to trust me (it took her a while to trust anyone) but once we got to know each other better, we became the best of friends, so it was no trouble at all when Norrie officially became 'my cat' after gran moved into the nursing home.  She was so sweet and meek and timid.  She feared loud noises, sudden movements, and thunderstorms (among other things... ok, who am I kidding, she was afraid of everything).  She had the richest, most beautiful, most luxurious purr I will ever hear in my life.  She was such a good listener.  She used to mutter under her breath in a weird, rusty, squawky meow.  She used to sleep under the covers beside me.  She was a beautiful combination of black and brown and marmalade tabby that I have never seen the likes of before.  She had one orange toe that I just loved to bits.

But late Saturday night, when I got home from Toronto, I was confronted with a scene of pure carnage.  There were pools of blood on the carpet in the bedroom, and drops and splatters all over the hall and bathroom floor.  I thought Matt had cut a finger off in my absence, quite frankly, that's how much blood there was.  (The fact that he was sleeping peacefully didn't really register at the time... ha ha)  After coming to my senses a bit, I thought it was a rabbit fight, which can be pretty brutal.  But after counting long-eared heads and checking for obvious wounds, I checked the cats, and found where all the blood was coming from.  Poor Norrie.  She was trying to pee, and she couldn't.  Instead of peeing, she was bleeding; it was matted in her tail and all down her pants.  She wasn't complaining, or crying, just wandering around bewildered, trying to go to the bathroom.  And she was purring.

When I saw what was wrong, I felt just awful.  I had seen blood in Norrie's urine off and on for a little while, but Norrie was so timid and easily freaked out that invasive veterinary procedures would have been so stressful for her, and I fear would have done more harm than good at this point.  She just couldn't handle it.  After much research, we thought it was her food, and had been slowly changing foods to try and get to the bottom of her urinary issues (and to prevent similar issues in Black and Frank), with varying degrees of success.  Believe it or not, most commercial cat food is completely unsuitable for cats.  Unlike dogs, cats are strictly carnivores, which means they should eat nothing but MEAT.  Cats should not eat corn, or rice, or 'chicken by-product meal'.  Cats should eat meat.  Commercial pet foods do not provide this for cats, and it just isn't fair.  In fact, most feline health complaints are the result of improper diet, even when cat owners believe they are providing nothing but the best for their cats.  I am currently researching switching Black and Frank to the BARF diet (bones and raw food) for cats, but that is a blog for another day.  When it came to poor old Norrie, I realized that it was too late.  I had failed her.  On Saturday night, I cleaned her up as best I could, and gave her something good to eat, and we spent the night sleeping on the floor together, just camping out.  She got under the covers with me, and I patted her, and she purred and purred, just like she always did.

First thing Sunday morning, Matt and dad and I bundled up Norrie and took her to the Hamilton Wentworth Emergency Vet, and I held Norrie while they gave her the injection that would end her life.  I am just beside myself with grief.  Did I do all I could?  Did I do the right thing?  She seemed so healthy just days ago.  What if I could have saved her?  She wasn't crying or acting funny.  I know cats purr when they are in pain, and I know that Norrie was not the kind of cat to cry and wail, but she must have been in so much discomfort.  Right?  I know that at nearly eighteen, she had the longest, happiest life a cat could ever hope for or wish for, but euthanasia has always been the sort of thing that scares the shit out of me.

There are times when there is nothing else that can be done for a pet, and at times like that I am thankful that euthanasia is an option, because the alternative - watching a pet suffer and suffer until they die - is  positively unthinkable.  I myself have had to make this decision to end an animal's life way too many times, and it never gets easier, nor should it.  But so many people see it as such an easy choice to make, when their pet could be easily saved by a simple operation and/or medication.  Pets are not disposable.  Potential vet bills from illness and old age should always be taken into consideration when opting to welcome any furry critter into the home.  I understand that these things are not cheap and that, since there is no legislation determining the cost of veterinary medicine or procedures, vet clinics can pretty much charge whatever the hell they want for their services.  Vet care is expensive for any animal, and it is so hard to put a price on one's love for their pet.  Because of this, I always feel just awful when I have to make the decision to end a life.  What if I could have done something to save Norrie?  She didn't have a voice to tell me how she felt; if she was in pain, or if she was uncomfortable, or if she wanted me to take 'drastic measures' to save her.  Did she understand that I loved her and that I wanted to do what was best for her?  Did she know she was not 'disposable' to me, and that I wasn't taking the easy way out?

aaarrgghhh.  I hope so.  I'm so sorry Norrie-cat.

You know she is sick if you can take her picture; she used to think you were trying to steal her soul if you had a camera in your hand