Hello, I am brand new here and actually joined this forum just to post this.
I'm new to this sort of thing but feel it's appropriate to give you a 'brief history' of this cat and it's special needs, for you to better understand my dilemma. Sorry for the long read but bear with me
In January me and my girlfriend adopted Whiskey, a beautiful white Turkish Angora- he was already 10 years old, and had no place mixed in with the kittens that were being adopted left and right.
We quickly found out Whiskey had a bit of a health problem: he had a digestive issue where he could easily get blocked up and dehydrated; unable to defecate for much too long and then when he did it would be huge and painful for him. My girlfriend and I both assumed this was how an older seemingly perfect (and super friendly) cat came to end up in a shelter and it just broke our hearts. Fortunately this issue was solved after one quick trip to the vet, and an easy change in his diet. We simply mixed his ordinary cat food with special laxative for cats and water. Problem solved.
Everything was great; his health issues were completely manageable and we loved Whiskey.
Recently, just out of the blue, we found piles of vomit here and there when we would come home from work. Whiskey had a knack for eating things he shouldn't so we figured this was just another one of those times. He would always be eating something stupid and throwing it up later. This time however, he wouldn't eat again. By the end of that same day he was throwing up when there was nothing left in his stomach-- it was green bile.
We took him to the vet that next morning. We've taken him plenty of times and we weren't TOO worried- just the normal amount of concern that we've always had for these vet visits. By this point it had been nearly 24 hours since the last time we know he ate.
The veterinarian seemed concerned after her initial check on Whiskey. And here's where the root of my guilt stems from. The Dr returned with an X-Ray showing mysterious blockage in five different spots of Whiskey's intestine. She couldn't make out what it was; I saw the X-Ray and couldn't tell what it was either.
Whiskey normally had, for lack of a better word, an AGGRESSIVE appetite. I mean we couldn't eat dinner without him hovering over our shoulder trying to swipe the food off our forks. To see him suddenly have no interest in food and mope around all day was painful. Everything happened so fast and we were left with either a complex surgery that 'might' work, or euthanasia.
We ultimately decided to do it.
I keep thinking back to that day- it was just 2 days ago as I write this. Did I choose too quickly? Should I have done the surgery? It's not like it was the first time we took him to the vet. I feel so guilty that we did it right there and then, without bringing him home just for a little while and spend one last night with him. Because remember, when we brought him in that day, putting him to sleep wasn't even a thought in our heads.
I know it's too late now but I just can't stop thinking about him- I feel like my hasty decision wasn't fair to the little guy.
This is the first pet I've ever had to say goodbye to in that way. To others that have gone through it, how did you cope?