Equiraptor's Journal

I am in a bad mood today.

Yesterday, Magellan was put to sleep. He was one of my parents' cats, an orange tabby. He and Isabella are the two kittens who survived being abandoned by their mother. My father and I raised the pair, feeding them, cleaning them, giving them attention and warmth. Both cats made it to adulthood and seemed to do quite well, but both had feline leukemia. We knew they'd go, at some point, and have shorter lives than "normal" cats. But... Magellan went from normal to "He's not going to last the night" in 24 hours. He stopped being able to overcome the anemia, and his blood count had crashed. He was throwing up. Just sitting still, he'd start panting, because he just could not get enough oxygen. Blood transfers could have extended his life, but he would have kept crashing, and needing more transfusions. It would have been trip after trip to the vet, and a large amount of money ($500 per transfusion, every 6 weeks to 6 months). Rather than dealing with all of that, my parents had him put to sleep. My mother and I were both there, and he's being buried tonight.

I didn't spend a lot of time with him. I'd see him when I came by my parents, for whatever reason. He'd always be among the first cats to greet me, and he'd frequently be the only one to come out of his way just so say hi. He was a sweet cat, and he was the only cat his sister would tolerate. She's going to be lonely without him.

Part of me wishes that we had gone with the transfusions. It seems so.. uneven, so unfair, to do so much for me, and not a thing for him. I've had shots, I've been poked and prodded, I have regular blood tests, IV infusions, I'm on chemotherapy. So very much, to keep me from pain, yet we couldn't even give Magellan one transfusion.

It's different, though. Without treatment, he would have died. If not overnight, then soon after. Without treatment, I would be alive, in horrible pain, barely able to move. He died quickly, without much suffering. Without treatment, I would be suffering with no end in sight. He was about 2 years old. Such a tiny, short life. More than being sad that he's gone, I'm sad that I didn't do more to keep him alive. I could have paid for at least a few treatments for him. He was already dead an hour after I learned about it, though. I didn't have much time to realise that.

I'm sorry, Magellan.

A gallery of Magellan at just a few weeks, and he and his sister playing at three months.

Tags: cats, death