It's been over two months since Oliver died. How does that both seem like forever ago and yet just like yesterday? As I tossed and turned in bed a few nights ago, somehow totally awake after being exhausted all day, my thoughts turned to him. It's rare that a day that goes by that I don't touch the little wooden box on my bedside table and think of him. I also realized that I never talked about that thing I mentioned I would talk about later which mainly was about how we found someone who would come out to the house and help us say goodbye to him.
Initially I had wanted the vet who treated Oliver to do the deed but he wouldn't come to our house citing staffing reasons. The thought of bringing him back to the vets office for his final moments just did not sit well with me. I could feel in my soul that it just wasn't the right choice. I called two mobile vet clinics in town who, according to the websites, did perform in-home euthanasia. The problem? The first seemed like he could care less that I was calling to put my cat to sleep. He referred to Oliver as "the animal". Maybe this is par for the course but it just didn't sit well with me. He wasn't just an animal. The second seemed a little too enthusiastic for me. No, "I'm sorry" or anything just a cheerful, "Okay, so when are we looking to do this?" No thanks. I called several other vets in town but they would not come out to the house without a prior examination.
I didn't think it would be so difficult! The last thing I wanted to be doing in my super-sensitive, emotional state was to be repeating the details of the situation over and over again. (did I mention that all this was going down while I was on break at work?) Finally, I Googled "in home euthanasia Lexington" and eventually found a couple pet hospice places located in Louisville. The first I called was A Friend's Farewell. I talked with Dr. LeMay and asked if she knew anyone in Lexington who would be willing to come to the house. After expressing her sympathies she asked me what my kitties name was and then said, "Tell me about Oliver." Of course I started to cry. Long story short, she gave me a few names to try and said that if I couldn't find anyone to call her back, that she would probably have time to come down. Needless to say I ended up calling her back and she drove all the way from north of L-ville to help us say goodbye.
As I wrote in the post that day-and I still can't really find the right way to say this-everything went well? It was good? That just doesn't seem to right in this sort of situation. I guess I'll say that it went as well as I could have hoped for being the situation that it was. We were home, he was comfortable, and we were able to go at our own pace and say goodbye to him in our own way. I will always be so grateful that we found someone passionate enough to do what she does and compassionate enough to drive over an hour each way to help us. It made a difficult situation a little bit easier to bear.
Initially I had wanted the vet who treated Oliver to do the deed but he wouldn't come to our house citing staffing reasons. The thought of bringing him back to the vets office for his final moments just did not sit well with me. I could feel in my soul that it just wasn't the right choice. I called two mobile vet clinics in town who, according to the websites, did perform in-home euthanasia. The problem? The first seemed like he could care less that I was calling to put my cat to sleep. He referred to Oliver as "the animal". Maybe this is par for the course but it just didn't sit well with me. He wasn't just an animal. The second seemed a little too enthusiastic for me. No, "I'm sorry" or anything just a cheerful, "Okay, so when are we looking to do this?" No thanks. I called several other vets in town but they would not come out to the house without a prior examination.
I didn't think it would be so difficult! The last thing I wanted to be doing in my super-sensitive, emotional state was to be repeating the details of the situation over and over again. (did I mention that all this was going down while I was on break at work?) Finally, I Googled "in home euthanasia Lexington" and eventually found a couple pet hospice places located in Louisville. The first I called was A Friend's Farewell. I talked with Dr. LeMay and asked if she knew anyone in Lexington who would be willing to come to the house. After expressing her sympathies she asked me what my kitties name was and then said, "Tell me about Oliver." Of course I started to cry. Long story short, she gave me a few names to try and said that if I couldn't find anyone to call her back, that she would probably have time to come down. Needless to say I ended up calling her back and she drove all the way from north of L-ville to help us say goodbye.
As I wrote in the post that day-and I still can't really find the right way to say this-everything went well? It was good? That just doesn't seem to right in this sort of situation. I guess I'll say that it went as well as I could have hoped for being the situation that it was. We were home, he was comfortable, and we were able to go at our own pace and say goodbye to him in our own way. I will always be so grateful that we found someone passionate enough to do what she does and compassionate enough to drive over an hour each way to help us. It made a difficult situation a little bit easier to bear.
