A couple of years ago, I was driving to see Michelle at her barn out in Wilton. Once I arrived and parked, I noticed a black little fur ball sitting under one of the horse trailers. Some what curious, I walked over to investigate. To my surprise, the fur ball was just as curious and we met half way. The little black fur ball turned out to be a little black kitty and even though we just met, she made immediate use of my leg as a scratching post. I was hooked. Over the next week or two, I would make it a point to visit the little black kitty that lived out by the horse trailers ever time I went to the barn. The barn owners Ron and Marie were privy to their guest and would bring crunches out to her. Besides being dumped off by her previous owners, life seemed pretty good for the little black kitty.

One day, I got a call from Michelle giving me some bad news. The little black kitty had been hit by a car. With a crushed pelvis, the little black kitty managed to make it back to the horse trailer where she laid down to endure her wounds. Ron and Marie noticed her lack of movement and took her to the vet. Besides the broken bones, she managed to get away with her life.
It took one visit with the injured little black kitty and I had to take her home. I couldn’t imagine what kind of people would dump a cat, but I was determined to show this kitty the love and attention she deserved. Once in my possession, I took her to the vet to get a diagnosis. As a result of the car impact, her tail was dying and needed to be amputated. In addition, she lost bladder control. To remedy this problem, her bladder needed to milked or expressed for the next month or so. Every day for a month I milked her bladder and kept a watchful eye on her.

After a month, the little black kitty regained bladder control and was starting to look like a normal cat. She also began to drop her guard and show some of her personality. She loved laying on her back with her legs stretched out; she kind of looked like super man flying upside down. For the next two and half years, life was good for the little black kitty.
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Unfortunately, trouble had decided to revisit the little black kitty. Her lower intestine was loosing its function and she started to become blocked up. At trip to the vet and some enemas took care of the problem and the little kitty was back to her life. However, the blockages continued in increasingly shorter intervals. After about 6 months, Michelle and I decided to have the little black kitty’s lower intestine removed to remedy the problem. At first, this appeared to have remedied the problem. However, the little black kitty continued to have problems with her intestines.

I wish I could say this was a fictitious story, but it is true. The little black kitty is real and her name is Turbo. This past Tuesday I heard Turbo vomiting as a result of her trying to pass her blockage. This was the final straw that broke the camels back. Up until this point, I was under the impression Turbo was having more good days than bad days. It was then I realized that the bad out weighed the good and it was time to consider the final option.

After talking with Michelle and confirming with the vet that there were no other options, we made an appointment for 9:30am today. We showed up a little earlier to let the vet employees say good bye. They had become very fond of Turbo and thought of her as their own.

After a small meal of high fat food, her favorite food, Turbo was laid on her side. With the final node from Michelle and I, Turbo was euthanized at approximately 9:50am. The vet had warned us that she might have a reaction, but she was very calm and relaxed through the process. Her ashes will be returned to Michelle and I soon.

Once in the car, my somewhat controllable sadness was broken and I cried hysterically. I had just ended the life of something I loved dearly. Call me a girl or wuss if you wish, but Turbo was a huge part of my life and Michelle’s. We viewed her as our child and the death of a child is not easy to get over.

In an attempt to make myself feel better, I told my self this is the right thing to do. I hate that phrase. Right and wrong are completely subjective and I do not think this was right. Nothing about this was right! Her getting dumped off, her getting sick and her getting put down are all wrong. The only way I know this was acceptable is by the reaction Turbo had. She laid there calmly like she knew what it was and was okay with it. That is the only comfort I am willing to accept and the only justification that puts my heart at ease.

On a side note, who is the sick jerk that decided the euthanasia injection should be pink? I think clear would suffice!
Michelle and I loved Turbo with every ounce of our being. She leaves a huge gap in our hearts and our family. She will be missed.
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On a happier note, I got an A in my x-ray diffraction class, an A in the lab, a B in dynamics and a B in a mechanics of materials. My new classes this quarter are professional responsibilities, writing in engineering, thermodynamics and circuits. I like all of them and think I will do well this quarter. Hopefully the next post will be more upbeat.
We love you Turbo!!!
In tears,
CDS