I put my own cat to sleep yesterday

So often when people find out I am a veterinarian,  the first thing they say is "I always wanted to be a vet, but I just couldn't handle putting animals to sleep".   Euthanasia is a daily presence in veterinary practice- sometimes due to tragedy, sometimes economic.   The most difficult ones are the pets that we have known for years or even their entire lives.   These patients become part of our extended family and when we have to let go to relieve their suffering,  it hurts us inside and reminds us of each of our own we have sent to the rainbow bridge. 

My Katie,  a chubby yet active Maine Coon,  was part of our family for almost eleven years.   A week old labor day weekend kitten, she was brought into the clinic by a good Samaritan.  Cold and soaking wet,  I agreed to foster her for the weekend then give her to the Humane Society to find a home.    My husband and I had just lost our cat, Bugs, to kidney failure and were struggling to keep our Great Dane, Uli,  afloat after his leg amputation and chemotherapy due to bone cancer.   Another cat we did not need.

Fast forward to a weekend of bottle feeding, cuddling and purring- and as Stephen predicted we had a new cat.  Katie grew into a big Maine Coon- she loved our dogs and acted just like them.  She was very social- greeting us at the door and inserting herself into our daily lives.  Katie was absolutely the best cat we have ever had.

Ten years later, Katie developed severe asthma.  Treatments to help her included a daily inhaler that she took in stride allowing us to do what was necessary to help her.   As  her breathing became more difficult, her activity diminished, she kept her distance, and her appetite waned.   Even as we could hear her gurgle,  I tried to convince myself that she was just having a bad day, that I could still help her.   Sensibility came when I realized that as her veterinarian,  I had to make a decision that was best for her, not me. 

Sunday, we let her spend the morning on the porch.   I gave her some pain medication, then a sedative.  We held her and stroked her head while she fell asleep.   My husband carried her to our table for the final injection.   I asked him to walk away while I gave it to her and felt her life slip away.   This procedure I have performed  many times, but  the emotion and responsibility surrounding this time was  deep, painful, and filled with guilt.  

With each patient euthanasia I perform,  I relive my own pet's love, life, and death.   It is a necessary, but difficult task to take a life,  to relive suffering.   But I would be lying if I said it was easy or without regret.