Mercy Killing…

Charlie wasn’t my cat. He belonged to my Mom and Dad, and he had been around for a number of years. He was a gentle yellow tabby, that had been born to Mama cat at the farm, he was a tiny little thing, when my Mom took him home and bottle fed him, slept with him, talked to him like a baby, he was clearly her cat.



Charlie disappeared during the spring, He was approx. 7 years old. My Mom and Dad live by a grain elevator; we searched for him there because had found many of the cats that had been found there. He had been gone awhile, assuming the worst, and going on. Then he returned around August dragging the lower half of his body, and acted like he didn’t know where he was, but had found his way back home, my Mom was so upset, she picked him up, and took him to bathe him, he was covered with dry gray clay. Cuddled up with him in a blanket, and dried him as she talked to him, he looked up at her with his loving eyes, but something clearly was wrong with him,



My family are pet and animal lovers, they have always had a special place in our home when we were children, and still to this day. We welcomed Charlie home, hoping he would return to his health, and soon he was walking on all fours, eating with the rest of the cats. Only Charlie was having trouble controlling his bowels, walking around in circles, which now required a trip to the vet.



My Mother made the appointment for Charlie, and assigned me with the duty of taking him, to the Vet.



Charlie had been to this Vet many times in the past, shots, neutering, etc. This wasn't nothing new for him, the ride was about 20 minutes away, Charlie curled up in the blanket Mom sent him in, and neither of us knew his fate.



The Vet looked at me and he believed it to be Brain damage, and Charlie was hopelessly ill, and beyond help, he wouldn't recover, he could live in this condition for a number of years, and he could get lost again, and he may not be as lucky next time.



He suggested the most humane act would to put him to sleep and end his suffering because he wasn’t going to get better.



Charlie wasn’t actually my cat, but at that moment my heart dropped, and I felt as if he was, he had curled up on my lap at my parent’s house on more than one occasion.



The Vet suggested that we should do it as soon as possible. My mother seemed all ready know the outcome and gave me permission to put him to sleep if that is what the Vet suggested.



The Vet asked if I wanted to be there for it, staying to hold him because I wouldn’t want to be alone, if I was dying, and I love all animals with all my heart. And this didn't seem right, only it was what had to be done.



Even trying to write this the emotions overwhelm me, the Vet told me it was a simple thing, (simple) and he called it a mercy killing; my heart broke, the tears flowed, I petted and stroked Charlie, it was soon over and the Vet asked if I needed a minute, I sobbed, just like losing a dear friend, saying yes...yes...



Crying all the way home, called my mother to let her know of Charlie’s death, and relaying to her this would always be on my mind, and this was one of the worst things that she had ever made me deal with!



Thinking from time to time about Charlie and the trusting look in his eyes, at his death, now I know it was for the best, only my heart still breaks.