I knew I was going to have to write this post eventually, and for many months now, I knew the time was creeping closer and closer. I just didn’t know how close. And then Sunday things just sort of fell apart and difficult decisions had to be made and here we are.
Felix battled his insulinoma like a trooper, but you can only fight your body so long. And Sunday, after so many seizures and him yelping the most pitiful yelp of an animal shocked and in pain you’ve ever heard, we decided — after the vet confirmed our hunch that there was really no guarantee that any treatment option we pursued would help him — it was time to put him to sleep. It happened so fast. He was in the other room, yelping, and then he got quiet and they brought him in, zonked on Valium. We had to make the call. I couldn’t look the doctor in the eye, even though he was being so nice to us. We had some time alone with Felix, but he was already gone. Wasn’t even blinking, just shivering. And then suddenly I was standing there with Phil, watching the doctor inject blue and then clear liquid into his little leg catheter. He stopped breathing and that was that. They put him in a box for us so we could take him and bury him in Saltillo beside Gonzo.
Two hours on the road.
At 1 a.m., Phil dug a grave and I held the flashlight. He said a prayer and went about the business of covering up the grave. There was crying. I was crying for the end of an era in my life as much as I was crying for Felix himself. So much has changed, and I’m not sure it’s all been for the better.
I will miss him so much. He was my first pet — a pet I picked out and raised and cared for. He was tiny, tiny when we first got him, and we were so clueless about ferrets that when we let him have too many dried apples to eat and he was horking them up, we honestly thought we had killed him. There was one time in Havenwood in Murfreesboro when we couldn’t find him, and realized with that gut-walloping horror that he had escaped through the dryer hose and was outside. He’d gotten downstairs and was happily on his way to adventures in wilds of the ‘Boro, but we spotted him and snagged him and utterly foiled his plan. He tried to get away again in Memphis when we lived in Lynnfield Place. One of our neighbors found a little sable ferret in the monkeygrass and notified the office. The apartment was so big and the ferrets had so many places to hide that we didn’t even know he was missing.
He was so smart and so good and such a little boy scout. I’m glad he’s not suffering anymore.
the day i watched my childhood dog get put to sleep and spent half an hour standing in a veterinarian’s parking lot crying like a lunatic with my mother i decided i was never going to have a pet again. you get so much from them but you give so much too, and you lose so much when it’s over. i know, trite, and you could say that about anything, and honestly over the years that feeling has faded slightly but it’s still there. i can still feel it. there’s really no positive spin you can put on losing something that you invested so much in, over so much time, except as an opportunity to reflect, i guess, but what comfort is that?
i remember how much it hurts. you’ll make it, you’re tough. don’t be surprised if he haunts you from the other side, either. pets have a weird way of doing that.
My sympathy to your and yours, doll. I dread this day with my own baby pets. I hope you can get through it all without too many more tears.
I’m so sorry to read about Felix. I know the decision that you made was difficult. It’s always hard to let go. Many hugs from me and the gang!
@dave
Yeah, I’m almost positive I’ll be seeing phantom pherrets scuttle around for the rest of my life. You’re right — there is so much pain involved, but so far, I’ve been able to temper that with immense joy. I hope the pain never outweighs the joy.
@Bette @theogeo
Thanks, y’all. I appreciate it so much. :)
Um, that was supposed to say @Cheryl. I can’t work the internerd.
Sweet gal, I am so sorry for your loss. This is yet another one of those events in which it sucks bullets to be grown and have to act grown and do what you know is best. O, and yea verily, the magnitude of this particular suck is hard to imagine, let alone bear.
The joy always eases the pain, though. Some days you will be overcome by both, but behind it all are two snuggly wild boys wriggling and wrestling and thinking of The Momma.
I got this mental image (while reading your sweet post) of Felix the Magnificent arriving at the gates of the Great Beyond and being met (and promptly bitten) by His Royal Gonzoness, who shouted, “Duuuuude! You’re here! There’s snacks! How’s the Momma? And the Dad? You smell funny.” And Felix said, with his usual aplomb, upside-down and wriggling, “Oh, they’re cool. They say hey. I had to go to Vet, but I’m okay now. Get off me. Where’s snacks?”
We send hugs and kisses and scurrying happy thoughts to you.
Oh no.
Lindsey, I’m so very sorry.
Oh, Lindsey… I am so, so sorry about Felix. I think the first post I ever read on your blog years ago was right after you had lost another of your babies, and then I got to meet Felix thru your blog and it’s just been such a joy & honor to “know” him. He was such a little dollbaby and always made me smile, and I’m sure brought a lot of joy to many who read your blog, and I know how much joy he brought you and Phil. I know there’s not much to say very helpful right now but I hope all your good memories of him will comfort you both, and the fact that he’s somewhere where he’s young & healthy & happy again. After having lost so many last year I am dealing with one elderly dog and one elderly cat still in decline and don’t think Dobie will be much longer, so my heart hurts for you. And I cried for Felix today but it was a good cry. I will miss him & know how much you will. Will be thinking of you all.
I’m so sorry about Felix. It’s so hard to be there in the vet’s office and have to make that decision even though you know it’s the right thing to do. I had to put one of my cats down six years ago and the image of the blue liquid still haunts me. I’ll be sending good vibes your way.
Thanks, y’all. So much.