Anger...anger....anger.......guilt....guilt....guilt....

The day after the vet confirmed Jonesy was not going to last even 3 weeks, I text my husband and asked him to go and talk to the vet. We wanted Jonesy put to sleep at home, with us there to hold him. The vet explained what would happen, and the arrangement was made for Saturday. One small injection, and he would sleep forever. We could change our mind at any time...........For the rest of the week Jonesy was the most pampered cat ever. He ate like a king.....tuna, prawns, anything he fancied. He was cuddled and carried, and probably smothered in so much love that, although I want to cry thinking about it, I can also smile at the memories. We took photos and we just spent lots of time with him. It was a good few days. Jonesy's breathing was getting slightly more laboured, and we knew he was declining so every minute with him was a joy. The vet rang Saturday morning and again told us we could change our minds, that she and a nurse would not be coming until near 4pm as they had some emergencies to deal with first. I was glad. It would give us time ...... but in retrospect it was the worst to happen. The day felt heavy, like you were waiting for something to happen. Well sadly we were, weren't we? It was a glorious sunny day. Jonesy went outside and we sat with him.....and as I was outside, around 3.30pm I heard the phone ring. I knew it was the vet. My husband came out and I told him I knew. I watched Jonesy race to his food dish as the doorbell rang and the vet and nurse came in. The laughed as they looked at him and then at the box they had bought to take his body away it. It was way too small. I thought...you stupid idiot, you only saw him a few days ago. How did you not realise it would be too small! I deliberately didn't look at the dish with the syringe in.....As the vet asked again if we were sure, my husband looked at me and I nodded. It was to be beautiful.....music as I held him...he would fall asleep....a small injection....I now know this blog will help me get my rage out....because when I think about it I am so angry I want to scream. It didn't happen the way I thought. The vet and nurse asked for a table to place Jonesy on, to place a catheter in his leg ready for the injection. As he was in the sun lounge my husband told them to use the table there. I wanted to say no, but it happened too quick, as the nurse took him and held him for the catheter to be positioned. I kept thinking....he never is on this table.....it should be the dining room table because he always jumped on that, even when I told him off. I was so angry with my husband for telling them to use that table, but I can never tell him because I know he is also missing Jonesy. I do want to shout at him though! How stupid is that? It's how I feel now but I know it will pass. The nurse had to hold him tight so he didnt get hurt as the catheter went it. I wanted to hold him as they did it, but felt helpless to ask, so I talked to him..telling him "Jonesy it's okay....it's okay Jonesy". He turned his head once and meowed. Such a sad helpless meow. The other two cats came into the room as it was happening and I asked the vet if it was okay. She said animals often know what is happening....I could smell the antiseptic smell of the catheter, and if I could so could they, and so could Jonesy. He was scared, I know he was scared as he didn't know what was happening. When it was inserted I grabbed him, and held him to my shoulder. I wanted to run away and take Jonesy with me, but the vet asked where we would like to be. I just held Jonesy and said the sitting room. I had imagined holding him and talking to him while he fell asleep...as I stood still in the sitting room, and said I was ready, the vet gave Jonesy the injection. My husband had turned to adjust the music. Within a second or two I felt Jonesy's body go limp. His head slipped down and his body felt heavy. .I turned to look at his head as it sank, and inside my head I shouted out that I hadn't talked to him as he died. I hadn't soothed him. I knew he had known what was happening. How scared he would have been. How could I do this. It was too quick. I needed more time. But I still thanked the vet as I sobbed. It was polite to do so. They left us alone for a while and we both held him close...I cherish that moment but it was so sad. There are things to be checked afterwards, and obviously vets have other animals to look after so we didn't have the luxury of time. I am sure if we had asked then we could have had longer, but if you have never experienced anything like this you don't know what to do or say. I do now.... There is a lot I would do different. We let the vet and nurse take Jonesy away in his cat box, wrapped in a towel of ours. We kept his collar and disc and said goodbye. The arrangements had been made for Jonesy to be cremated alone, and for us to have his remains back in a box, a special box my husband had chosen. As my husband closed the front door, I lay my head in my arms on the kitchen work top and  howled my grief. The 2 other cats had vanished. My husband held me close, and all I could think about was that I wanted Jonesy back, and I wanted him back now. I could run after the vet and say I had made a mistake...........but I stayed still and cried instead.