On Wednesday morning I went downstairs and Tink was unconscious. I rushed her to the vets and I was advised she may have a brain injury or illness. She was in a coma and had zero neurological responses. The vet asked if I wanted to put her down, as she couldn't guarantee, because of Tink's condition, that treatment would help.
Tink asked me, “let me go,” but I wasn't brave enough. I've worked with clients in palliative care before, and their souls ask to be freed, but Tink was family, and I ignored her plea. The vet wrapped her in heat blankets, shaved parts of her body and hooked her up to a drip, took blood for testing, and consulted with staff. Tink recovered over the day, was able to walk, drink and feed, but she deteriorated overnight and by morning was in a coma again.
I spoke to the vet by phone and this time I was able to advise her to euthanise her, but I asked her to wait until I was there. I didn't want Tink to die without family beside her. She died three minutes before Maree, Julia and I arrived. We viewed her body, I held her cold ear, and our hearts broke. I cry every time I think about her.
I know that Tink will visit in spirit, but the last conversation we had haunts me. She knew she was dying, and she wanted me to let her go.
“Tink, I love you, baby girl. We're all going to miss you.”
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