|Posted by: emu_alice||Posts: 1 - Joined: Tue Jun 15th, 2021 09:20 am|
i only spent one year with my piggie shado. she was a preschool pet that had been neglected and passed around amongst families for the first 8 years of her life and only came to live with me when covid hit and nobody wanted her.
she was a beautiful black & white peruvian with obscenely long hair that came matted when i first got her.
through literally everything, from getting her hair mats cut out to her grossly overgrown nails trimmed to the pain she was in at the end, shado was still the sweetest, kindest little piggie.
even though shado was super old, she had been doing great the past year until four days ago, when she randomly went into GI stasis (her digestive system just stopped working) and may have developed an upper respiratory infection (we're not sure the exact timeline).
driving to the vet's the first time, i was fully expecting that she was going to die. she was gasping for breath and shaking with a scarily low pulse during the drive there. the techs took her in and asked us about if they should resuscitate her if she crashed. we said yes.
that evening in the hospital, it seemed like she was getting a bit better. she had pooped, her temperature was stabilizing. we had her stay overnight, and when we kissed her goodbye, she wasn't 100%, but she was better.
we took her home the next evening with a myriad of prescriptions and critical care (green goo you feed herbivores when they won't eat). we fed her that evening (with syringes, which she tolerated) and she seemed to be lethargic but fine. the next morning, she was still lethargic and bloated but she ate.
that evening, i procrastinated feeding her (it wasn't even really procrastination, i just didn't do it early like i planned) because i was experimenting with makeup. when i came downstairs and picked her up to feed, she was limp and shaking.
i put her on my lap. the angle i sat her at was a bit wonky, but she would ALWAYS spring right back to her feet if i did that. this time she just sat, a little bit twisted, looking up at me and shaking.
i called my mom in tears. i tried to get her to eat some critical care but she just wasn't having it. i corrected her position and she didn't even wiggle at me, she just sat, looking up at me, with glassy black eyes.
my mom came home and we called the vet. during the call, shado tensed up and wiggled around- i don't think it was a seizure, just her trying her hardest to muster any strength to move. her eyes were filling with cloudy white tears that i'd never seen before. when i put her in the box to drive to the vet's, she didn't even try to readjust herself or look around, she just sat there, trembling, looking up at me.
during the car ride i kept my hands on her (my mom was driving), trying to keep feeling her pulse and erratic breathing, all while tears were quietly streaming down my face. one of the sad songs from hamilton kept playing over and over in my head (which was weird, because my obsession with that musical had faded a few years ago. since then, i had listened to some far sadder musicals).
i knew what i was going to say to the vet tech at the door, but all i could manage was shado's name and that she "wasn't doing so good" before breaking down. the tech took shado back and asked about resuscitation. we said no.
the tech came back in. "she's agonal breathing." i know what that means, i have a morbid obsession with death- it's the erratic, shallow breaths that happen during death. "she's trying to pass." the tech saying that just broke me.
we told them that it was okay to put her to sleep.
the tech brought her in one last time. I don't remember what i said to her, but i could tell she was in so much pain so whatever i said, i said it quickly.
the tech whisked her back into the back room.
some dog a few rooms down started whining.
the tech came back. i don't even remember what she said, i just remember quietly sobbing. we briefly discussed what to do with her body and mom got on the phone with the preschool teacher that had her for the first 8 years. we decided to get her cremated individually so that we would get the ashes back.
i don't remember those few minutes very well. it hadn't quite hit me. i was on the verge of crying, but i didn't. i wasn't really thinking, about anything. i was just existing. i immediately started panic-scrolling through instagram and couldn't stop internally laughing at a really dumb surreal meme. i posted it to my story with the caption "shado just died and i can't stop f***ing laughing at this meme"
on the car ride home, i sat there, looking at myself cry quietly in the side mirrors. the makeup look i'd been experimenting with (and i was really proud off) ran right down my face.
i can't remember much from the night. i went upstairs and cried. i watched a youtube video. i posted more to my instagram story. i stayed up late. i couldn't get the smell of shado and the damn critical care goo off my clothes.
a few hours ago was the 24 hour anniversary of shado's death. i can't stop feeling guilty about spending that time on that makeup look, i could have fed shado and realized that she was hurting and then called mom sooner and gotten to the vet sooner so that she didn't have to spend as much time in pain. when i was sitting with her before we went to the vet, i wasted a few minutes just sobbing into her fur before calling mom. i could have said my goodbye quicker so that she didn't have to stay in that much pain for any longer.
what's done is done. i know that. i just keep on alternating between binging on junk (i was actually starting to get a better relationship with stress eating before this), sleeping, trying to use the internet to distract myself from my thoughts, and breaking down.
i need to go to sleep. i need to go to sleep. it's 3:30 in the morning my time and i have to walk a cute little puppy in less than 4 hours (i started doing dog walking and i need to impress this client).
i know i will start to feel better. i know it will get better, it always does. i just need to start feeling better pretty damn soon. this hurts.
(i'm also going to a new therapist because my old one quit. i'm usually good with meeting therapists for the first time and bringing them all up to speed about my Trauma(tm) but for this one, i'm just going to be a mess)