When do you "call it a day"?

Dear FirstHit,

Many thanks for all of the below. It's a comfort hearing from other
people who have gone through a similar degree of consideration before
putting a beloved pet to sleep. Thank you particularly about the
information regarding the needles in the hind leg, without shaving.
There are a few new posts for me to read but nobody has yet popped up to
say that ramming the needles into the scruff of the neck is common
practice. So this is important information and confirms my hunch that
the vet was more a sick-sheep man. (We're in big sheep country here.)

Yes, I will update this group after I have spoken to the vet.

Best Wishes,
Eddy.



Eddy,

I just came upon this thread yesterday and read all 48 posts. Very
worthwhile reading for me with good comments and suggestions about a
number of considerations, including finances. Reading the posts was
comforting for me, as I lost my Kitty in late May.

I am sorry for the loss of your beloved cat and all the pre- and post-
death ordeals you've faced. I empathize with you; I struggled with
deciding when to put Kitty to sleep. It's hard enough to accept that
your cat is dying without the burden of deciding when your loved one's
life is no longer worth living and there's no reasonable hope for
recovery. With all that, my pre-death grief was worse than anything I
experienced after she was put to sleep.

I was happy with the vet's euthanasia process at the office. I went
over the procedure with her beforehand and asked her to modify her
plans to have me with Kitty through the entire thing. She agreed.
She did not do any shaving. She first gave a sedative shot in one of
the *hind* legs. Then I was given 5 minutes alone with Kitty. After
that, a second needle was inserted into the hind leg and the cat was
painlessly put to sleep. The cat appeared to take the procedure as
well as I could hope for. After she died, I was allowed as much time
as I wanted with her.

Later I learned the vet's office mishandled the body. Next time I
will make arrangements for the handling of the body directly with the
pet mortuary. Dealing with a pet's death is certainly a learning
experience, and hopefully we all will be better equipped the next time
we are faced with all these things.

When I put Kitty to sleep, I was confident that I had made the right
choice at the right time. There have been times later though that I
have questioned my decision and felt maybe I did it too soon. I have
to remind myself of the reasons it was best to do it when I did. My
brain is fine with my decision, but sometimes my emotions don't
agree. I think guilty feelings like this are not uncommon among
people like us who genuinely love our pets, but we have to not let it
pull us down. Guilt's only value is that it can move us to do things
differently next time or sometimes right a wrong.

Best wishes to you, and if you wish to give us a follow-up after you
talk to your vet, I'd be interested to read about it.

FirstHit

Granby wrote:

Pretty simple, to me. You know people who have had their vet do the shave,
give the shots thing while the owner is controlling the pet. NO jab the
needle or hold the cat by the scruff of the neck. Keep it short sweet and
to the point. After all you paid them to do a service and it wasn't what
you wanted.

Thanks for this Granby! I'm going to copy and paste those two lines in
the above and say just that to him. I suppose whether he apologise or
not is irrelevant.

Eddy.

"Eddy" wrote in message
...
Granby wrote:
I would not use the same vet but would let the office
know why I was unhappy, in full detail.

Yes, this is what I am slowly gearing myself up to do now. I am
pondering the best way to go about it. We live in a very rural
community here where everybody knows everybody - absolutely different
from the circumstances of a city, for example. So I am not looking
forward to doing it but I know it has to be done.

Cheers,
Eddy.

Eddy wrote:
Hello. Three months ago I asked in this group when people thought it
was time to "call it a day" with regard to a very ill pet and putting
him/her to sleep. Some people were extremely helpful, most particularly
CindyS, and in the end the advice proved to be very helpful. When the
time came, we knew.

Out extraordinary little cat is no more. We have both cried and cried.
Two days before he was put to sleep he was so alive and active that he
had brought in a baby rabbit. And even the day before he died there was
a wild commotion and cries in the hedge with a pheasant then fleeing
into the field opposite: the cat with the tragic heart condition then
being discovered looking gleeful and victorious beside the point of
exit! So, right up until the day when he suddenly went right downhill,
he had had about four months of great quality life - all due to his
four-meds-a-day routine. It was very demanding cutting up the tablets
accurately and administering them to him twice a day and at exactly the
right time, and of course we had had to indulged in all sorts of
subterfuges with pate, yoghourt, and tuna to get the meds down his
throat. But every further day of health made it worthwhile.

On the morning of the day of his passing however he didn't come eagerly
for his breakfast. He moved from the porch window through to the
kitchen in three segments, each at my repeated urging. Then as the
morning went on we saw he was in difficulty. By lunchtime we had
noticed that he could not even lie down: he would rapidly get up again
and crouch, bewildered, his mouth open to maximise intake of air. I
discussed it all on the phone with the vet and the options were either
to transport him up hill and down dale to be hospitalised for a second
shaving and operation to drain his lung cavities, or let him go quickly,
in peace. The first option would have been too traumatic for him in the
state he was in and clearly the treatment he has been on, the only
treatment there is, cannot provide permanent relief. The vet came
quickly once I had rung a third time. He seemed very professional. We
didn't know him. Unfortunately the vet who had been caring for the cat
was off duty on the day in question. By the time the vet arrived the
cat had become so desperate he had leapt up onto my desk to look at me
and plead for assistance, just as he had leapt up onto the mantelpiece
at Christmas to gaze down upon me and beg for help. He just knew that
somehow I help. He didn't know how, but there was such trust there. We
brought the vet up to my study and he sat at my desk, took the cat in
his arms, petted him a little, and then proceeded to give him the
injections.

Now I wish to broach the reason for sharing this experience with you. I
need information from people who are familiar with putting cats to
sleep.

The beloved cat has been treated with respect and dignity since it was a
kitten. He was only four and a half years old. He behaved towards us
like a loving child. He would never attack us, scratch us, hiss at us,
or anything like that. In hindsight I wish I told the vet this before
bringing him into the room, but as it was we were in such an emotional
state and we just assumed that the vet would treat our "child" with the
same care and love that we have.

The vet sat in my chair, placed two syringes and a stethoscope on the
desktop, took the cat in his arms and pressed him down so that the cat's
head was in the crook of his left arm. The cat looked comfortable and,
of course, in spite of his great difficulty with breathing he was
looking at me with some alarm. (Who on earth was this stranger?)

Holding the cat on his lap with his left arm, with his right hand the
vet picked up one of the syringes and pushed it into the scruff of the
cat's neck. This was done quickly and with a degree of force. The cat,
on death's door all morning, immediately became extremely alarmed, his
eyes dilated with fear, and he pushed himself upwards and sought to
escape. The vet put down the syringe and then used his right hand to
grab the cat by the scruff of the neck and hold him up for about five
seconds, getting control of him. We were freaked out by this. It was
totally unexpected but we assumed, in the moment, the vet knew what he
was doing. But it did seem unnecessary, to us at least. He then
lowered the cat down, back into the previous position, saying it would
take five minutes for the anaesthetic to take effect. As he lowered the
cat back down into the crook of his left arm, the cat began harkling and
fighting at its throat with its two front paws. The cat was so clearly
distressed. I felt like I had utterly betrayed him. Throughout this
whole sequence of events the vet was so cool and professional, talking
quietly, and in control. Within 15 seconds or so the cat stopped
physically resisting. In hindsight I think that maybe although it
looked like the cat was being cradled in the vet's left arm he was
actually being quite forcefully held.

After five minutes the cat was truly immobile. His eyes were wide and
open and he seemed to be looking at me, kneeling on the floor looking
into his face and stroking his head, but the vet said he was "under".
The vet then took the second syringe and pushed it into the same area,
the scruff of the neck, as before. It was then just a matter of waiting
for the heart to stop beating. During this period, the vet stroked the
animal but I couldn't help noticing he was looking around my study,
noting things, like the pictures on the walls and so on. At one point
he remarked on one of my books and said he had read it as a youngster.
With tears streaming out of my eyes I wasn't about to start yabbering on
about some book so I didn't develop that conversation.

After another five minutes the vet said he believed the heart had
stopped beating. He then took his stethoscope, listened, and confirmed
that the creature had passed on. We then laid him gently on a plastic
bag in case any fluids etc should escape from him. We briefly discussed
how deep down we need to dig before burying him and arrangements as to
paying the bill, and then the vet left.

This happened about two weeks ago. Since then we have been wondering
occasionally about the manner in which the cat was relieved of his
suffering. As I said above, we didn't know the vet at all, but we have
come to understand that ordinarily, in this farming area, he deals with
large animals, livestock, horses, and so on, possibly including dogs.
We understand the vet who had been caring for our cat all along deals
with "small animals". In hindsight we wonder if the vet put our cat to
sleep as if he were a sheep or a calf, rather than a cat that was a
gentle as a child - as opposed to a feral cat.

We wonder if the "small animal" vet might have used an entirely
different approach. Might she have been more gentle? Might she have
shaved him a little first in order to find a vein and then ensure that
the anaesthetic circulated intravenously, so that the cat might simply
have drifted off like human beings do when they are put under general
anaesthetic in a hospital situation?

On the other hand, our cat had serious cardiomyopathy which was causing
a serious breathing problem, since fluid had clearly once again built up
around his lungs and impeded his breathing capacity. Maybe such a heart
and such a pair of lung react to anaesthetic with alarm and violence?
Maybe the vet's manner of administering the anaesthetic was perfectly
normal in the circumstances?

We would be so grateful for people's thoughts. We have thought about
seeking to have a private word with the "small animals" vet who had
cared for our cat for so long, but the problem is that she is not likely
to indict the other vet, who is her employer. Furthermore, we realise
we could cause strain between the two of them.

Obviously it would be easy to damn the vet's behaviour and say he was
out of line and claim that the cat should have felt no more pain or
alarm that what he was already feeling prior to the vet's arrival.
However, we realise that quite possibly in the circumstances the vet
handled the procedure as well as anyone could.

Thank you.

Eddy.


Hi Eddy,

First off, my condolences on your beloved cat.

I can't really answer your question, but I did have several thoughts
come to mind.

First off, you may be right about the vet being used to larger animals.
I used to live in a farming community and came to understand that
there was a difference between the big animal and little animal vets.

Secondly, putting an animal down is probably never a welcome chore for
the vet, and although he seemed aloof, this may have been his way of
coping. While not exactly the same situation, I used to work in a
hospital, and many times I had to distance myself from the situation in
order to do my job. If I'd allowed my emotions to take over, I'd have
been useless.

Thirdly, your cat may have just been struggling against the presence of
a stranger and be handled by said stranger. And/or even if the
medication didn't directly cause your cat distress, it still might have
made him feel weird, and he may have been reacting out of fear instead
of pain.

In any case, I am sorry for your loss. I hope your sorrow soon gives
way to sweet memories.

Michelle

Eddy wrote:
Granby wrote:
I would not use the same vet but would let the office
know why I was unhappy, in full detail.

Yes, this is what I am slowly gearing myself up to do now. I am
pondering the best way to go about it. We live in a very rural
community here where everybody knows everybody - absolutely different
from the circumstances of a city, for example. So I am not looking
forward to doing it but I know it has to be done.

Cheers,
Eddy.



Hi Eddy,

As a person who used to live in a rural community myself, I don't think
it hurts to share your concerns with the vet as long as you're a matter
of fact and not confrontational.

The vet may appreciate hearing what you have to say. It may be that
he's not used to small animals, and is not used to doing the IV method.
It may be that he didn't have the one dose meds that are injected
intravenously. But if you share your issues, it may be that he will be
more accommodating to the next person in your shoes.

Best regards,
Michelle

Michelle C. wrote:
As a person who used to live in a rural community myself, I don't think
it hurts to share your concerns with the vet as long as you're a matter
of fact and not confrontational.

The vet may appreciate hearing what you have to say. It may be that
he's not used to small animals, and is not used to doing the IV method.
It may be that he didn't have the one dose meds that are injected
intravenously. But if you share your issues, it may be that he will be
more accommodating to the next person in your shoes.

Hi, Michelle. Thanks for your thoughts. Yes, it's going to be
interesting just putting the facts to him and seeing how he responds.

For certain he is not the vet in the practice who generally deals with
small animals but he's a late middle-aged man and we think he must
surely have put many cats to sleep during his career.

It has occurred to us in the last few days that vets have good-practise
guidelines just as doctors and other professionals so and that it must
be commonly known and accepted among vets that they should not proceed
with any operation upon an animal, particularly a beloved pet, without
first fully explaining the procedure to the owners.

Anyway, will update the group on the outcome.

Eddy.

Michelle C. wrote:
Thirdly, your cat may have just been struggling against the presence of
a stranger and be handled by said stranger. And/or even if the
medication didn't directly cause your cat distress, it still might have
made him feel weird, and he may have been reacting out of fear instead
of pain.

Yes, Michelle, this is a very important point. So we are arranging to
see the "small animals" vet at the practice quietly first. (She cared
for the cat over the months but was unfortunately off-duty when the day
came.) She knows the physical state that the condition was in. We need
to know from her whether the treatment the cat received was appropriate
given its specific condition. Depending on what she advises, we may
then make an appointment to air our complaint to the vet in question.

Eddy.

Eddy wrote:
Michelle C. wrote:
Thirdly, your cat may have just been struggling against the presence of
a stranger and be handled by said stranger. And/or even if the
medication didn't directly cause your cat distress, it still might have
made him feel weird, and he may have been reacting out of fear instead
of pain.

Yes, Michelle, this is a very important point. So we are arranging to
see the "small animals" vet at the practice quietly first. (She cared
for the cat over the months but was unfortunately off-duty when the day
came.) She knows the physical state that the condition was in. We need
to know from her whether the treatment the cat received was appropriate
given its specific condition. Depending on what she advises, we may
then make an appointment to air our complaint to the vet in question.

Eddy.



Sounds like a very prudent strategy, Eddy. :-)

Keep us posted.
Michelle

Hi Everyone,

I promised some of you who have been very helpful with our dilemma an
update following our talk with our vet regarding the awful way in which
our cat was put to sleep.

We saw the vet yesterday afternoon and spoke for about half an hour in
private. Firstly we assured her that we absolutely were not seeking
compensation or damages regarding the behaviour of the other vet, who
put our cat to sleep, but that we simply wanted to know facts so that we
could decide whether to approach him and tell him of our
dissatisfaction.

She confirmed that if a strong relationship is perceived between a
cat-owner and a cat then a "small animal vet" will usually remove a
little fur from a front paw (only a pair of scissors is needed) and try
to find a vein. She said that finding a vein in a cat's paw is however
not easy and neither is inserting into it accurately, because of its
small size. She said that sometimes a vein, correctly inserted into,
will burst, and then one has to move to another paw. She pointed out
that going around the paws like this with a sharp needle can be very
disconcerting for a dying animal - which may be very sensitive and wish
to defend itself or escape.

She said that even if a vein is found easily in a paw and the first
injection applied without trauma, the cat can still react strongly when
it senses the effect of the sedative or anaesthetic. It can seek to
escape or lash out. She confirmed that a vet who does not know that a
cat's nails have been trimmed or who does not know that the animal is
extremely docile would be wise to quickly hold a cat by the scruff of
the neck until it settles down if it shows any sign of alarm.

It was a great pity that on the day in question when our cat desperately
needed to be put to sleep, she happened not to be on duty and the only
vet available was a "large animal vet", the one who is responsible for
horses, cattle, and sheep in these parts. He had never met our cat, or
us, before, and it is therefore likely that he performed the procedure
that is normal in barns and on farms, and indeed even in the back room
at the vet's when cat-owners prefer not to witness the procedure.

We asked if it is not possible to make absolutely sure that any cat is
put to sleep without it experiencing any alarm at all. We asked this
with a view to what will happen to our other cat one day - unless he
gets run over or something. She said the best method would be to take
the sick animal to the vet's surgery and request that a catheter be
used. The catheter would be attached by the vet with the assistance of
a nurse. She pointed out that a very sick cat may still not take kindly
to having a catheter inserted, but then it could calm down a little
before the procedure continued. Once it had calmed down then the
sedative/anaesthetic could be applied intravenously without trauma -
unless once the animal detected the change in its system it suddenly
sought to fight for its life or escape, which is sometimes the case. Of
course, this method wasn't open to us because we knew that transporting
our cat over the hills in the condition he was in would be awfully
traumatic for him for the duration of the journey in the back of car.

Basically our experience was simply bad luck. She also pointed out
that although our cat was alarmed for the five minutes before the first
injection took effect, we need to remember that it did not realise that
it was being killed. We knew it was being killed, but it did not. So
"the horror" was more on our part than the cat's part.

I hope the above report is of help to other people. We need to remember
that the safest way to ensure a cat passes away with as little trauma
as possible is for a catheter to be fitted first. But this is something
you need to ask for. You also need to ask if you may be present
throughout the entire procedure of course, because vets have a more
realistic attitude to putting animals to sleep than we cat-lovers
usually do.

End of story.

Best Wishes,
Eddy.

Hello. Three months ago I asked in this group when people thought it
was time to "call it a day" with regard to a very ill pet and putting
him/her to sleep. Some people were extremely helpful, most particularly
CindyS, and in the end the advice proved to be very helpful. When the
time came, we knew.

Out extraordinary little cat is no more. We have both cried and cried.
Two days before he was put to sleep he was so alive and active that he
had brought in a baby rabbit. And even the day before he died there was
a wild commotion and cries in the hedge with a pheasant then fleeing
into the field opposite: the cat with the tragic heart condition then
being discovered looking gleeful and victorious beside the point of
exit! So, right up until the day when he suddenly went right downhill,
he had had about four months of great quality life - all due to his
four-meds-a-day routine. It was very demanding cutting up the tablets
accurately and administering them to him twice a day and at exactly the
right time, and of course we had had to indulged in all sorts of
subterfuges with pate, yoghourt, and tuna to get the meds down his
throat. But every further day of health made it worthwhile.

On the morning of the day of his passing however he didn't come eagerly
for his breakfast. He moved from the porch window through to the
kitchen in three segments, each at my repeated urging. Then as the
morning went on we saw he was in difficulty. By lunchtime we had
noticed that he could not even lie down: he would rapidly get up again
and crouch, bewildered, his mouth open to maximise intake of air. I
discussed it all on the phone with the vet and the options were either
to transport him up hill and down dale to be hospitalised for a second
shaving and operation to drain his lung cavities, or let him go quickly,
in peace. The first option would have been too traumatic for him in the
state he was in and clearly the treatment he has been on, the only
treatment there is, cannot provide permanent relief. The vet came
quickly once I had rung a third time. He seemed very professional. We
didn't know him. Unfortunately the vet who had been caring for the cat
was off duty on the day in question. By the time the vet arrived the
cat had become so desperate he had leapt up onto my desk to look at me
and plead for assistance, just as he had leapt up onto the mantelpiece
at Christmas to gaze down upon me and beg for help. He just knew that
somehow I help. He didn't know how, but there was such trust there. We
brought the vet up to my study and he sat at my desk, took the cat in
his arms, petted him a little, and then proceeded to give him the
injections.

Now I wish to broach the reason for sharing this experience with you. I
need information from people who are familiar with putting cats to
sleep.

The beloved cat has been treated with respect and dignity since it was a
kitten. He was only four and a half years old. He behaved towards us
like a loving child. He would never attack us, scratch us, hiss at us,
or anything like that. In hindsight I wish I told the vet this before
bringing him into the room, but as it was we were in such an emotional
state and we just assumed that the vet would treat our "child" with the
same care and love that we have.

The vet sat in my chair, placed two syringes and a stethoscope on the
desktop, took the cat in his arms and pressed him down so that the cat's
head was in the crook of his left arm. The cat looked comfortable and,
of course, in spite of his great difficulty with breathing he was
looking at me with some alarm. (Who on earth was this stranger?)

Holding the cat on his lap with his left arm, with his right hand the
vet picked up one of the syringes and pushed it into the scruff of the
cat's neck. This was done quickly and with a degree of force. The cat,
on death's door all morning, immediately became extremely alarmed, his
eyes dilated with fear, and he pushed himself upwards and sought to
escape. The vet put down the syringe and then used his right hand to
grab the cat by the scruff of the neck and hold him up for about five
seconds, getting control of him. We were freaked out by this. It was
totally unexpected but we assumed, in the moment, the vet knew what he
was doing. But it did seem unnecessary, to us at least. He then
lowered the cat down, back into the previous position, saying it would
take five minutes for the anaesthetic to take effect. As he lowered the
cat back down into the crook of his left arm, the cat began harkling and
fighting at its throat with its two front paws. The cat was so clearly
distressed. I felt like I had utterly betrayed him. Throughout this
whole sequence of events the vet was so cool and professional, talking
quietly, and in control. Within 15 seconds or so the cat stopped
physically resisting. In hindsight I think that maybe although it
looked like the cat was being cradled in the vet's left arm he was
actually being quite forcefully held.

After five minutes the cat was truly immobile. His eyes were wide and
open and he seemed to be looking at me, kneeling on the floor looking
into his face and stroking his head, but the vet said he was "under".
The vet then took the second syringe and pushed it into the same area,
the scruff of the neck, as before. It was then just a matter of waiting
for the heart to stop beating. During this period, the vet stroked the
animal but I couldn't help noticing he was looking around my study,
noting things, like the pictures on the walls and so on. At one point
he remarked on one of my books and said he had read it as a youngster.
With tears streaming out of my eyes I wasn't about to start yabbering on
about some book so I didn't develop that conversation.

After another five minutes the vet said he believed the heart had
stopped beating. He then took his stethoscope, listened, and confirmed
that the creature had passed on. We then laid him gently on a plastic
bag in case any fluids etc should escape from him. We briefly discussed
how deep down we need to dig before burying him and arrangements as to
paying the bill, and then the vet left.

This happened about two weeks ago. Since then we have been wondering
occasionally about the manner in which the cat was relieved of his
suffering. As I said above, we didn't know the vet at all, but we have
come to understand that ordinarily, in this farming area, he deals with
large animals, livestock, horses, and so on, possibly including dogs.
We understand the vet who had been caring for our cat all along deals
with "small animals". In hindsight we wonder if the vet put our cat to
sleep as if he were a sheep or a calf, rather than a cat that was a
gentle as a child - as opposed to a feral cat.

We wonder if the "small animal" vet might have used an entirely
different approach. Might she have been more gentle? Might she have
shaved him a little first in order to find a vein and then ensure that
the anaesthetic circulated intravenously, so that the cat might simply
have drifted off like human beings do when they are put under general
anaesthetic in a hospital situation?

On the other hand, our cat had serious cardiomyopathy which was causing
a serious breathing problem, since fluid had clearly once again built up
around his lungs and impeded his breathing capacity. Maybe such a heart
and such a pair of lung react to anaesthetic with alarm and violence?
Maybe the vet's manner of administering the anaesthetic was perfectly
normal in the circumstances?

We would be so grateful for people's thoughts. We have thought about
seeking to have a private word with the "small animals" vet who had
cared for our cat for so long, but the problem is that she is not likely
to indict the other vet, who is her employer. Furthermore, we realise
we could cause strain between the two of them.

Obviously it would be easy to damn the vet's behaviour and say he was
out of line and claim that the cat should have felt no more pain or
alarm that what he was already feeling prior to the vet's arrival.
However, we realise that quite possibly in the circumstances the vet
handled the procedure as well as anyone could.

Thank you.

Eddy.


cindys wrote:
In my opinion, you make your decision on the basis of the cat's
quality of life. If medications are keeping him alive but he's
spending his whole day lying in the corner, it's time to call it a
day. OTOH, if the medications are keeping him alive, but he's spending
his day frolicking, it's too soon to call it a day. Even if you know
you may have a downturn in a week or a month. You can always call it a
day when you see the downturn.

I have a cat with very severe heart disease (although he has not
experienced the repeated episodes of fluid-buildup-induced respiratory
distress followed by periods of dehydration that you have described in
your cat). My cat ended up in the animal emergency room on December
30, 2007. His prognosis was grim. He was in respiratory distress,
every chamber of his heart was enlarged, he had leaky valves, blood
clots just asking to form. They drained his chest, prescribed some
medication and gave him "a few months at most." Our regular vet
estimated his remaining lifespan to be "maybe another month."

It's now been nearly a year and a half, and we still have the cat, and
he is still enjoying a really good quality of life, eating well
(thanks to Pepcid), going up and down the stairs, jumping onto (low)
tables, sleeping in my son's bed, etc. When the time comes, we won't
hesitate to call it a day, but that day will come only once. In the
meantime, the cat is happy, and we're appreciating every day we have
him. Every living creature is going to get sick and die someday. You
don't want to hasten that day but neither do you want to prolong the
suffering when it comes. I would say it is time to call it a day if
and when: Your cat is spending much of his day lying in a corner. He
doesn't want to eat (and you're already tried giving him Pepcid - ask
your vet for the proper dose for a cat, and don't use the extra
strength). He stops grooming. He stops using the litter box. He hides.
He's wobbly on his feet. These are all signs that he's had enough. But
if he's happy and frolicking, it's too soon. Take your cue from him.

(BTW, I saw that you wrote in another thread that you're giving your
cat aspirin - I would assume to prevent clots. You might want to think
about using Plavix (clopidogrel) instead. Our cat is taking four or
five different meds for his heart, but I believe it's the Lasix
(furosemide) and the clopidogrel that are responsible for keeping him
alive. The potential for blood clots is huge for cats with heart
disease. The medication is expensive in the USA because we only have
the brand-name available to us, but you can get it generic from a
Canadian pharmacy. I used Canada Pharmacy online. It cost me around
$80 for 100 pills. The cat takes only 1/4 pill per day, so 100 pills
are enough to last for a year and a half. In the USA, it costs $135
for 30 pills at CVS or Rite Aid.)
Good luck to you and your kitty.
Best regards,
---Cindy S.

I don't understand this. Why can't the vet just give the cat an
injectable anesthetic to make it unconscious before giving it the
"final" injection?


---MIKE---
In the White Mountains of New Hampshire
(44° 15' N - Elevation 1580')

Eddy, did you see my post about the vet doing the two step procedure? The
day after my dog was PTS Lewi, a deaf cat had to be PTS. Same method used
and with a minimum or reaction on the part of the cat. Got the first shot
in his hip and then when totally relaxed, got the second shot.
"Eddy" wrote in message
...
Hi Everyone,

I promised some of you who have been very helpful with our dilemma an
update following our talk with our vet regarding the awful way in which
our cat was put to sleep.

We saw the vet yesterday afternoon and spoke for about half an hour in
private. Firstly we assured her that we absolutely were not seeking
compensation or damages regarding the behaviour of the other vet, who
put our cat to sleep, but that we simply wanted to know facts so that we
could decide whether to approach him and tell him of our
dissatisfaction.

She confirmed that if a strong relationship is perceived between a
cat-owner and a cat then a "small animal vet" will usually remove a
little fur from a front paw (only a pair of scissors is needed) and try
to find a vein. She said that finding a vein in a cat's paw is however
not easy and neither is inserting into it accurately, because of its
small size. She said that sometimes a vein, correctly inserted into,
will burst, and then one has to move to another paw. She pointed out
that going around the paws like this with a sharp needle can be very
disconcerting for a dying animal - which may be very sensitive and wish
to defend itself or escape.

She said that even if a vein is found easily in a paw and the first
injection applied without trauma, the cat can still react strongly when
it senses the effect of the sedative or anaesthetic. It can seek to
escape or lash out. She confirmed that a vet who does not know that a
cat's nails have been trimmed or who does not know that the animal is
extremely docile would be wise to quickly hold a cat by the scruff of
the neck until it settles down if it shows any sign of alarm.

It was a great pity that on the day in question when our cat desperately
needed to be put to sleep, she happened not to be on duty and the only
vet available was a "large animal vet", the one who is responsible for
horses, cattle, and sheep in these parts. He had never met our cat, or
us, before, and it is therefore likely that he performed the procedure
that is normal in barns and on farms, and indeed even in the back room
at the vet's when cat-owners prefer not to witness the procedure.

We asked if it is not possible to make absolutely sure that any cat is
put to sleep without it experiencing any alarm at all. We asked this
with a view to what will happen to our other cat one day - unless he
gets run over or something. She said the best method would be to take
the sick animal to the vet's surgery and request that a catheter be
used. The catheter would be attached by the vet with the assistance of
a nurse. She pointed out that a very sick cat may still not take kindly
to having a catheter inserted, but then it could calm down a little
before the procedure continued. Once it had calmed down then the
sedative/anaesthetic could be applied intravenously without trauma -
unless once the animal detected the change in its system it suddenly
sought to fight for its life or escape, which is sometimes the case. Of
course, this method wasn't open to us because we knew that transporting
our cat over the hills in the condition he was in would be awfully
traumatic for him for the duration of the journey in the back of car.

Basically our experience was simply bad luck. She also pointed out
that although our cat was alarmed for the five minutes before the first
injection took effect, we need to remember that it did not realise that
it was being killed. We knew it was being killed, but it did not. So
"the horror" was more on our part than the cat's part.

I hope the above report is of help to other people. We need to remember
that the safest way to ensure a cat passes away with as little trauma
as possible is for a catheter to be fitted first. But this is something
you need to ask for. You also need to ask if you may be present
throughout the entire procedure of course, because vets have a more
realistic attitude to putting animals to sleep than we cat-lovers
usually do.

End of story.

Best Wishes,
Eddy.

Hello. Three months ago I asked in this group when people thought it
was time to "call it a day" with regard to a very ill pet and putting
him/her to sleep. Some people were extremely helpful, most particularly
CindyS, and in the end the advice proved to be very helpful. When the
time came, we knew.

Out extraordinary little cat is no more. We have both cried and cried.
Two days before he was put to sleep he was so alive and active that he
had brought in a baby rabbit. And even the day before he died there was
a wild commotion and cries in the hedge with a pheasant then fleeing
into the field opposite: the cat with the tragic heart condition then
being discovered looking gleeful and victorious beside the point of
exit! So, right up until the day when he suddenly went right downhill,
he had had about four months of great quality life - all due to his
four-meds-a-day routine. It was very demanding cutting up the tablets
accurately and administering them to him twice a day and at exactly the
right time, and of course we had had to indulged in all sorts of
subterfuges with pate, yoghourt, and tuna to get the meds down his
throat. But every further day of health made it worthwhile.

On the morning of the day of his passing however he didn't come eagerly
for his breakfast. He moved from the porch window through to the
kitchen in three segments, each at my repeated urging. Then as the
morning went on we saw he was in difficulty. By lunchtime we had
noticed that he could not even lie down: he would rapidly get up again
and crouch, bewildered, his mouth open to maximise intake of air. I
discussed it all on the phone with the vet and the options were either
to transport him up hill and down dale to be hospitalised for a second
shaving and operation to drain his lung cavities, or let him go quickly,
in peace. The first option would have been too traumatic for him in the
state he was in and clearly the treatment he has been on, the only
treatment there is, cannot provide permanent relief. The vet came
quickly once I had rung a third time. He seemed very professional. We
didn't know him. Unfortunately the vet who had been caring for the cat
was off duty on the day in question. By the time the vet arrived the
cat had become so desperate he had leapt up onto my desk to look at me
and plead for assistance, just as he had leapt up onto the mantelpiece
at Christmas to gaze down upon me and beg for help. He just knew that
somehow I help. He didn't know how, but there was such trust there. We
brought the vet up to my study and he sat at my desk, took the cat in
his arms, petted him a little, and then proceeded to give him the
injections.

Now I wish to broach the reason for sharing this experience with you. I
need information from people who are familiar with putting cats to
sleep.

The beloved cat has been treated with respect and dignity since it was a
kitten. He was only four and a half years old. He behaved towards us
like a loving child. He would never attack us, scratch us, hiss at us,
or anything like that. In hindsight I wish I told the vet this before
bringing him into the room, but as it was we were in such an emotional
state and we just assumed that the vet would treat our "child" with the
same care and love that we have.

The vet sat in my chair, placed two syringes and a stethoscope on the
desktop, took the cat in his arms and pressed him down so that the cat's
head was in the crook of his left arm. The cat looked comfortable and,
of course, in spite of his great difficulty with breathing he was
looking at me with some alarm. (Who on earth was this stranger?)

Holding the cat on his lap with his left arm, with his right hand the
vet picked up one of the syringes and pushed it into the scruff of the
cat's neck. This was done quickly and with a degree of force. The cat,
on death's door all morning, immediately became extremely alarmed, his
eyes dilated with fear, and he pushed himself upwards and sought to
escape. The vet put down the syringe and then used his right hand to
grab the cat by the scruff of the neck and hold him up for about five
seconds, getting control of him. We were freaked out by this. It was
totally unexpected but we assumed, in the moment, the vet knew what he
was doing. But it did seem unnecessary, to us at least. He then
lowered the cat down, back into the previous position, saying it would
take five minutes for the anaesthetic to take effect. As he lowered the
cat back down into the crook of his left arm, the cat began harkling and
fighting at its throat with its two front paws. The cat was so clearly
distressed. I felt like I had utterly betrayed him. Throughout this
whole sequence of events the vet was so cool and professional, talking
quietly, and in control. Within 15 seconds or so the cat stopped
physically resisting. In hindsight I think that maybe although it
looked like the cat was being cradled in the vet's left arm he was
actually being quite forcefully held.

After five minutes the cat was truly immobile. His eyes were wide and
open and he seemed to be looking at me, kneeling on the floor looking
into his face and stroking his head, but the vet said he was "under".
The vet then took the second syringe and pushed it into the same area,
the scruff of the neck, as before. It was then just a matter of waiting
for the heart to stop beating. During this period, the vet stroked the
animal but I couldn't help noticing he was looking around my study,
noting things, like the pictures on the walls and so on. At one point
he remarked on one of my books and said he had read it as a youngster.
With tears streaming out of my eyes I wasn't about to start yabbering on
about some book so I didn't develop that conversation.

After another five minutes the vet said he believed the heart had
stopped beating. He then took his stethoscope, listened, and confirmed
that the creature had passed on. We then laid him gently on a plastic
bag in case any fluids etc should escape from him. We briefly discussed
how deep down we need to dig before burying him and arrangements as to
paying the bill, and then the vet left.

This happened about two weeks ago. Since then we have been wondering
occasionally about the manner in which the cat was relieved of his
suffering. As I said above, we didn't know the vet at all, but we have
come to understand that ordinarily, in this farming area, he deals with
large animals, livestock, horses, and so on, possibly including dogs.
We understand the vet who had been caring for our cat all along deals
with "small animals". In hindsight we wonder if the vet put our cat to
sleep as if he were a sheep or a calf, rather than a cat that was a
gentle as a child - as opposed to a feral cat.

We wonder if the "small animal" vet might have used an entirely
different approach. Might she have been more gentle? Might she have
shaved him a little first in order to find a vein and then ensure that
the anaesthetic circulated intravenously, so that the cat might simply
have drifted off like human beings do when they are put under general
anaesthetic in a hospital situation?

On the other hand, our cat had serious cardiomyopathy which was causing
a serious breathing problem, since fluid had clearly once again built up
around his lungs and impeded his breathing capacity. Maybe such a heart
and such a pair of lung react to anaesthetic with alarm and violence?
Maybe the vet's manner of administering the anaesthetic was perfectly
normal in the circumstances?

We would be so grateful for people's thoughts. We have thought about
seeking to have a private word with the "small animals" vet who had
cared for our cat for so long, but the problem is that she is not likely
to indict the other vet, who is her employer. Furthermore, we realise
we could cause strain between the two of them.

Obviously it would be easy to damn the vet's behaviour and say he was
out of line and claim that the cat should have felt no more pain or
alarm that what he was already feeling prior to the vet's arrival.
However, we realise that quite possibly in the circumstances the vet
handled the procedure as well as anyone could.

Thank you.

Eddy.


cindys wrote:
In my opinion, you make your decision on the basis of the cat's
quality of life. If medications are keeping him alive but he's
spending his whole day lying in the corner, it's time to call it a
day. OTOH, if the medications are keeping him alive, but he's spending
his day frolicking, it's too soon to call it a day. Even if you know
you may have a downturn in a week or a month. You can always call it a
day when you see the downturn.

I have a cat with very severe heart disease (although he has not
experienced the repeated episodes of fluid-buildup-induced respiratory
distress followed by periods of dehydration that you have described in
your cat). My cat ended up in the animal emergency room on December
30, 2007. His prognosis was grim. He was in respiratory distress,
every chamber of his heart was enlarged, he had leaky valves, blood
clots just asking to form. They drained his chest, prescribed some
medication and gave him "a few months at most." Our regular vet
estimated his remaining lifespan to be "maybe another month."

It's now been nearly a year and a half, and we still have the cat, and
he is still enjoying a really good quality of life, eating well
(thanks to Pepcid), going up and down the stairs, jumping onto (low)
tables, sleeping in my son's bed, etc. When the time comes, we won't
hesitate to call it a day, but that day will come only once. In the
meantime, the cat is happy, and we're appreciating every day we have
him. Every living creature is going to get sick and die someday. You
don't want to hasten that day but neither do you want to prolong the
suffering when it comes. I would say it is time to call it a day if
and when: Your cat is spending much of his day lying in a corner. He
doesn't want to eat (and you're already tried giving him Pepcid - ask
your vet for the proper dose for a cat, and don't use the extra
strength). He stops grooming. He stops using the litter box. He hides.
He's wobbly on his feet. These are all signs that he's had enough. But
if he's happy and frolicking, it's too soon. Take your cue from him.

(BTW, I saw that you wrote in another thread that you're giving your
cat aspirin - I would assume to prevent clots. You might want to think
about using Plavix (clopidogrel) instead. Our cat is taking four or
five different meds for his heart, but I believe it's the Lasix
(furosemide) and the clopidogrel that are responsible for keeping him
alive. The potential for blood clots is huge for cats with heart
disease. The medication is expensive in the USA because we only have
the brand-name available to us, but you can get it generic from a
Canadian pharmacy. I used Canada Pharmacy online. It cost me around
$80 for 100 pills. The cat takes only 1/4 pill per day, so 100 pills
are enough to last for a year and a half. In the USA, it costs $135
for 30 pills at CVS or Rite Aid.)
Good luck to you and your kitty.
Best regards,
---Cindy S.