d-day

[arguchik]

so i scheduled (tentatively) the home vet visit for next tuesday (the 8th). scheduling the euthanasia of a cat...it felt very very weird talking to the vet on the phone.

i'm still a little torn. should i wait until jester seems sicker? is it ok to let him go now? what if he puts up a fight when he sees the needle? even if he doesn't, what will it be like to watch the death of an alert, mentally aware animal? what if i'm racked with guilt afterward? should i spend the next week completely spoiling him?

what i need is a dose of resolve. i also need to reassure myself (or be reassured) that i'm doing the right thing.

this is perhaps one of my most annoying traits, as far as i'm concerned. i'm not always indecisive (in fact, i'm not *usually* indecisive)...only when guilt is involved. or death--me having to make a decision to end the life of a fellow creature. even (um...especially?) one i find particularly difficult to live with. i just hate that i am so susceptible to guilt, that it is so paralyzing or anxiety-producing--particularly guilt about some other person or creature's needs that i'm not willing or able to meet. i just imagine this cat looking at me and thinking, "why is she abandoning me?"

Comments

[glaucon.livejournal.com]

there's a line from Hamlet that I think applies to kitties too:

there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come, if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come: the readiness is all. Since no man knows aught of what he leaves, what is't to leave betimes?

and as far as the guilt goes, you've been patient and loyal to him for...14 years is it?
you don't need to distrust your own feelings or motives for putting him down when the vet says it's time. you might be relieved when it's done, but that doesn't mean you caused it or were somehow disloyal or unkind.

on a slightly other hand, I'm sorry you (and jester) are having to go through that. it's a very sad experience.

[arguchik.livejournal.com]

and that is part of the to be or not to be monologue, yes? god i love hamlet. i think it's my favorite of all shakespeare's plays, tho i also love henry IV (the one gus van sant made into "my own private idaho") and the tempest ("O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beautious mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!"). and of course there's othello and the scottish play...

but hamlet stands out for me. the masterwork. just googled the phrase, and of course the sparrow thing is *not* part of the to be or not to be monologue. but here's that monologue, just because i think everyone should read it occasionally. god...such wisdom in it. i swear, shakespeare is better than the bible.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.