Chapter 39: What You Take, You Have To Give Back In the End

"Hello?" I answered the phone.

"Is this Mrs. Thomas?" a voice asked.

"Sorta."

"Sorta?"

"Yeah, my mom is the one you probably want."

"No, are you Kathryn?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then I am looking for you. This Laura at the James Veteranary office. Doctor Sanders must speak with you immediately." she said.

"Um, okay, when are your hours?"

"We are open ten am to seven pm on weekdays, and from twelve pm to six pm on Saturdays. We're closed on Sundays."

"Okay, thank you, I'll be right over."

"Buh-bye." she said so cheerfully it discusted me.

"Bye bitch!" I slammed the phone down and ran downstairs. "MOM! Take me to Dr. Sanders immediately, she has to tell me something about Zacky!!"

"All right honey, lets go." Mom said, grabbing the keys and heading to the car. We hopped in and I burst into tears.

"Mommy, Zacky's gonna die." I felt like I was three years old.

"Oh, no he isn't sweety, he'll pull through."

"He will, but I just have this feeling that something is very wrong." I said through my sobs.


We finally pulled into the parking lot ten minutes later. I ran in and found my way to Dr. Sanders.

"Hello Kathryn."

"Where's Zacky, whats wrong with him." I asked, tears still flowing.

"He's right here in this room." she opened the door and I bolted past her. I picked up Zacky and just held him in my arms. He licked my face and licked my fingers. Then I gently set him on the table, and started to pet him while the doctor explained his situation. "Well, Zacky has a blood clot that is blocking the main arteries to his back legs, thats why he is paralyzed from the waist down. Now, here are your options, you can get a surgery done on him, but there is a 60% chance he will have a relapse. Or you can put him out of his misery and send him to a better place by letting me put him to sleep. Its a painless and quick injection. Do you want to take him home and decide or just decide it now?" She looked at my mom, and my mom looked at me.

"Well, honey," my mom started, with a shakey voice, "it's your cat, its your call." I thought she was cruel for making me decide such a thing. I had a life ridding on my one word. I wanted the best for Zacky and I wanted him to be happy. So I thought hard for a few minutes.

"Can we take him home and come back?" I asked, with a strong, steady voice. I was trying hard to sound more mature and more grown up about the situation.

"You sure may. We're open until seven tonight. I just want you to know that, you know the right decision. It rests right here." She patted her heart. I could have made the decision right there, cause I knew it, but I wanted to spend a couple more hours with Zacky. So we took him home. He rode home on my lap, and I stroked him and looked out the window, fighting with my mind and my heart. Half of me knew I'd have to put him to sleep to make him happy, the other half wanted keep him, to have him to play with, and pet. It was a tough decision to make. My problem was that I knew what had to be done, but I didn't want to do it. I was very attached to Zacky, and had to be strong. We got home and I locked myself in my room. I got my camera, and used 3 rolls of film on him and me. I didn't realize how much I missed playing with my camera, but that was the least on my mind. I played with Zacky, and let him eat his favorite dish, tuna, straight from the can. I could tell he enjoyed it. But, when the clock hit 6:30 pm. I knew it was time. I told myself to be strong, that I could cry after it was over, but a few tears escaped the enclosure of my eyelids anyway. I swallowed hard and then told my mom that we should go. It was time. We pulled into the James Vet's office once again, and I marched back to an empty room. The doctor came in a few seconds after I sat down. I asked my mother to stay in the lobby. She knew this was hard for me, so she respected my wishes.

"Well, have you decided what to do?" Dr. Sanders asked me.

"Yes ma'am. I would like to put Zacky out of his misery." I said, biting my lip when I finished.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Would you like to see the back room?" She offered.

"Yes ma'am, I would like to see where Zacky will die." I bit my lip again.

"Okay, follow me."

"Okay." I said. She led me down the narrow, white-tiled hallway to the door at the end of the hallway. She opened it and I looked inside, stepping in the room of death carefully. There were light brown cabinets lining the walls and the counters that came up to my waist were white. The cabinets, including the ones under the counters, had silver handles. We closed the door. The counters went all the way around the small, laundry room sized room, except in one corner where there were 3, thin and tall white file cabinets. The file cabinets were about six drawers high. There was a silver colored sink to the right side of me and anatomy posters of cats and dogs lined the walls above and below the cabinets. In the middle of the room, was a small metal table, it had a white blanket on it, and a needle and injection fluid already prepared. She watched as I studdied the room.

"I knew you would make the right decision, so I prepared his injection. Everything is very sterile. Do you want to watch me inject him, to see how quickly and peaceful it is?"

"No ma'am." I answered quickly, but deep in my heart I wanted too. I wanted to stroke his head as he quietly drifted to God. I wanted to be there as his eyes closed for the last time. I wanted to know that this was a safe, quick, painless procedure. But I couldn't. I was strong, but not that strong. You'd think it was my brother dying here and I was deciding to take him off the respirator or something. But it was my cat. The one that loved me no matter what I did, or who I was, or who I knew. The one that came and sat on my lap when I was crying or upset, that didn't try to talk me into things, or tell me it was going to be okay when it wasn't, but that just automatically understood and accepted my decisions. Whether they be right or wrong; including this one. I kissed Zacky on the head, as his small body lay in my arms, then I stroked my hand over him a couple more times, I kissed him again, and walked out the wooden door. I didn't look back. I just prayed that God would take care of the cat that loved me and I loved. I walked into the lobby, retrieved my mom, and left. Tears silently poured down my face as I breathed quietly. I put my seat belt on and looked up to see Zacky's favorite toy on the dashboard. Right then, I knew I had made the right decision.

**Special Authors' Note: It was hard for me to write this section because of the memories and emotions that came back with it. But I figured there might be another person out there with the same problem, that needs a little help or guidence. So I'm sharing my story of a loved one lost: The section about Zacky is dedicated to my first, and favorite cat of all times, Ricky, who died in 1991. I got him when I was 2 1/2, I even picked him out of a litter of kittens, but I learned a hard lesson: "What you take, you have to give back in the end." So, I gave him back to the Lord at age 8. I wasn't as ready for his death, but one day, out of the blue, he couldn't move his back legs. We took him to the vet and she said we could do an operation to remove the blood clot with the chance it would happen again, or we could put him to sleep and out of his misery. We took him home to decide. We had a family meeting and sadly, we decided to go with putting him to sleep, for his own good. That night, I got to say one last goodbye to Ricky as the doctor took him into the back room to be put to sleep. This was based on everything I could remember happened when I went to the vets office that fateful night. { Sorry about the emotional outburst here } - Rachel **

Chapter 40: Stories Will Be Told and Games Will Be Played

chapters 41 and 42
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