Note: this entry contains some possibly upsetting descriptions.
Yesterday (Monday) was very busy. Meg was at work downtown, and I had a day full of conference calls while also managing Lanty’s feedings and new dog Buttercup’s walks. Busy was actually kind of good. Lanty laid low most of the day.
Last night, Lanty got in bed with us again. But this time he didn’t snuggle, he just slept at the foot of the bed.
This morning he was sprawled out on his side in the closet. He was having even more trouble walking. During his morning meds, he turned his head around, looked me right in the eye, and said a plaintive “mrrreeeeehh.” Which seemed to mean “really, I’m done.”
This was when I knew for certain. There would be no more reprieves. It was time to go, and it was up to me to help him through. He didn’t seem to be in pain (I did a few tests to be certain) he just seemed very, very tired.
So I told Lanty that I’d be okay without him. That it was okay for him to go. That he didn’t need to hold on for me.
I called Meg at work to let her know. I called CARE to confirm tomorrow’s appointment and make certain Dr. Feltes was coming out. I set up a litterbox right next to Lanty’s basket in our bedroom. I started cleaning up the house. Packing up his cushions, toy mice, litterboxes… all the things he has around the house that make the house his. Meg came home from work early, and we settled in to keep Lanty company through his last night with us.
But as has often been the case, Lanty had other plans.

Around 5pm today, while we were both saying soothing words to him as he rested under our bed, he got up, walked very shakily to the bathroom, let out a mighty yowl, and sat down hard, breathing very rapidly. This looked like the end, and it looked like it might happen on its own. I gave him Buprinex to take the edge off his discomfort, and we called CARE again to see if someone was able to come tonight. As it turned out, the very sweet Dr. Jessica Kriner, who we had seen around CARE but had never met, was able to come out for us.
I carried Lanty back to the bedroom, and tucked him in his basket, where he rested quietly under his favorite blanket until the vet arrived. I was of two minds: I didn’t want him to have to endure any more, but I was still hoping he would go on his own.
I didn’t like the idea of allowing some stranger to take Lanty’s life, no matter their compassion or skill. He was my little boy. I had always taken care of him. In our first months when we were learning each others’ personalities; on my own in Oklahoma when he choked on a bit of string; when he escaped our condo and I found him and brought him back; when I found out he had hyperthyroidism and I would have to medicate him every day; when we found out his cancer was treatable and I spent down my retirement to pay for it; he depended on me. But I looked into his eyes and saw that, as long as I was breathing, he wouldn’t let go.
The vet arrived and put the catheter into his arm, and I took a moment alone, just him and I. I told him that it was all ok. That I would be ok. That I knew he couldn’t let go on his own. And that it was time to finish this.
It’s so hard to tell what our pets are thinking and feeling; but he kept looking into my eyes the whole time. And suddenly I was as ready as he was. Everything else seemed to flow from that moment. Dr. Kriner came back into the room with the pentothal and flush. As she hooked up the syringe, I reached for it and asked “can I do this?” He was my boy, and I was going to take care of him to the end. Meg and I were both petting him, and I pushed the plunger down, as I had with so many of his medications and feedings over the last half year. This was the last thing I could do for him.
Ever since we got the diagnosis of cancer on August 21 of last year, every moment we’ve had with Lanty has been an unexpected bonus. We always knew how it would end, it was just a question of when. And we feel so blessed that we could help give him a loving, peaceful end to his fight.
Lanty left this world at 5:50 CST today.

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