Goodbye Smokey

Good-bye Smokey, my cat, my pet, my friend. I had to say,"please put him down now" today. I had no intentions of doing it. I sensed he was trying to clear a hairball over the last few weeks, so we started treating him with hairball cream to his paw. He had been eating, drinking-pretty much his usual self. Late last night however he was wretching again and did not produce anything but seemed to breathe in and choke on whatever did come into his mouth. He had some breathing distress though he was not panicked, so I gave him some chest PT, his breathing settled down, and we fell asleep on the sofa, him in my arms. The next morning he was pulling, retracting, working hard to breathe. I took him to the vet and the vet xrayed his chest. I was not at all prepared for what I would see. I cried as I studied the films with the vet. Smokey had been functioning on 25% of his lung tissue. There was a large pleural effusion showing in most of his chest cavity and there were some tumors. I knew right away, looking at those films, I would have to put him down. He was a beautiful, fiber optically-furred black cat with piercing green eyes. The tips of his long black hairs looked as if they had been dipped in beige paint. Smokey wanted for nothing but to be left alone, be stroked and loved-up once in awhile, and to be no bother. He was happy just to have a home.
After having him euthanized, I sat in my car with him in my arms. I spoke to him, stroked him, and cried. I told him I was sorry. As a nurse, you become angry when you think you missed a diagnosis or signs. The positive from this- a lesson- never assume your cat is trying to clear a hairball if nothing is produced. I took him home and laid him on a quilt in the foyer area so that the other animals could see and acknowledge he was gone. Maybe that was too hopeful. After all, other than his newly shaved foreleg, he looked peacefully asleep. As I lay crying next to him on the floor, petting him, my husband came home from work. He too was shocked and shed his tears.He told me to let him go that we had to bury him. Call it silly, but I buried him with a toy, a little stuffed mouse, and a picture of us. My husband asked where I wanted him buried. I chose to bury him in my closest-to-the-house-garden. He only wanted a home and I was glad to give him one-my adopted, rescued Smokey. Rest well my friend.