Nineteen Days

Thursday October 12 at 8:50 pm, I put Rasputin to sleep. He didn't move all day and was very lethargic.  His left eye was almost swollen shut. I got home from work, took a look at him, petted and tried to get him to drink water.  Then I went out to the living room and discussed putting him to sleep with my roommate through tears.  The two home euthanasia services I had picked didn't have any availability.  My brother had already planned on swinging by after work so I alerted him that this could be IT.  He was really awesome.  He brought us dinner. For the second time ever, Rasputin jumped in his lap.  Our other two cats knew something has been up this past week.  My roommate told me that Shanna walked in the room where Ras hadn't moved all day, looked at him, gave him a long blink, and Rasputin blinked back.  Aw!

My brother drove us to Angell.  They were incredibly lovely.  The waiting/euthanasia room was a small lounge with sofas where we could hold Rasputin comfortably.  The vet was kind and empathetic who explained everything clearly. After some cuddling time, the vet took Ras and inserted a catheter in his leg and brought him back.  Then we had more cuddle time.  This is when I played Tom Petty's "Wildflowers" song. We said our goodbyes. While I was still holding him, he got the injection to sedate him.  Then he got the one that stopped his heart.  The vet checked his heart with her stethoscope and told me quietly, "He's gone."  Then this terrible wail came out of my body. I was doubled over rocking him. My brother and roommate were on either side of me rubbing my back. I really thought I could feel him purring so I kept gasping, "He's purring! He's purring!" like a lunatic.  Then I moved onto crying, "Why?" and "My baby boy" over and over. I tried to remember the Hebrew of Oseh Shalom. Depleted, I finally quieted down muttering that I'm exhausted and want to sleep for a week.  My roommate reminded me that I have another kitty, Stella, to take care of.  Then my DNA emerged in classic dark humor as I replied, "Oh yeah, I have a spare."  That dark humor has gotten us through wars and tragedies.

Angell provided a clay paw print and a cardboard box for transporting him to his grave.  We buried him in my parent's backyard next to our old family cat, Max.  We have two other family cats back there buried on the other side of the yard - Miklos and KC. The ride to my parents was fairly lighthearted - which I know is part of the lovely mourning emotional roller coaster. Thank goodness I had a therapy appointment Thursday morning!  She told me its important to be present and feel all my  feelings when he passes. Rasputin was wrapped in a warm blanket he loved, I tucked his collar and a letter I wrote and we buried him in 40 degree weather by flashlight. My parents are pretty great in a crisis.

My roommate and I got home around 10:30. Stella, who is a touchy tortoiseshell, let me hold her and hug her without any squirming or hissing. I saved a clipping of Rasputin's fur and when I smelled it, I started weeping.  He always smelled like honeysuckle.  Trying to fall asleep was not really working. I googled pet cloning - which is totally out of my tax bracket. Plus, the clone will probably have the fibrosarcoma gene.  Can I just say fuck cancer? It took a little over two weeks since the tumor emerged to debilitate my baby. I popped a Melatonin and it took forever to work. I unearthed my old teddy bear. I had already called off of work Friday.

I woke up after five hours of sleep.  Stella was sleeping at the foot of my bed.  Then I remembered. It felt like a kick in my stomach and a shaking sob of "Nooo!" came out of me. I lay in bed sobbing for a little while. I know I"m going to be okay and the way he passed was surrounded by love and painless. I told my roommate that the pain in my heart feels clean like it will heal healthy not festering - eventually.