Buttercup Martinez

This is Buttercup. She was one of my two cats, the other one being her brother, Smash.

At around 3am on Monday morning, i came home after the Super Bowl and found Buttercup hiding behind a bookcase. She was disoriented, drooling, dirty, weak, and twitching. I took her to the bath tub to try to clean her up, but it became apparent that there was more going on. So i took her to the emergency vet.

The vet told me that this was most likely related to another incident a few months ago. The symptoms were similar and the prognosis was the same: Buttercup needed surgery. Buttercup had something called a liver shunt. Basically, the shunt kept a sufficient amount of blood from reaching Buttercup's liver. This meant that her liver couldn't process toxins well. These toxins built up and affected her neurological system and various other things about her. The shunt would be fatal in the long run.

Buttercup was going to have to stay at the vet's for about a day, and they were going to try to flush out her system and clear out the toxins. The total cost of this treatment was astronomical. Moreover, it would only be a quick fix: it would only postpone another attack. The only potential cure was surgery and even then, there was no guarantee that Buttercup would lead a normal life.

I came home at around 4:30, tired, sad, worried, and confused. I didn't know what to do. I loved Buttercup, and i didn't want her to die. At the same time, the cost of the surgery was way more than i could afford and more than i could reasonably ask my parents to lend me. And, most importantly, there was no guarantee that Buttercup would be better: she could still suffer and die painfully later.

I consulted with Chrystal, who was here when i got the cats and who named Buttercup. We decided that having Buttercup put down was the best thing to do. I called the vet and told him that that's what i had decided. He kept advocating for her, which is exactly what he should have done, but i knew it was the right decision. I didn't want her to be in pain anymore. The vet asked me if i wanted to be there when Buttercup was put down. I said i didn't.

I talked to Chrystal again, and she convinced me to be there when it happened. I went back to the vet at about 10am on Monday. They asked me if i wanted some time with her before they did it, i said i did. They brought her out, wrapped in a blanket. She was disoriented and shaking constantly. Here eyes were open wide, her pupils dilated. I think she recognized me. They left us alone. i picked he up, held her, petted her. She kept trying to jump onto my shoulders. I could tell, though, that she was in pain. She kept trying to clear herself, but she couldn't keep her balance and she kept falling over. She couldn't seem to understand where the counter ended or how far down the floor was. She was in bad shape.

I called the doctor in. He carried the syringe. In it was an overdose of sedatives that would give Buttercup an easy, painless death. We laid her on her side. I kissed her and stroked her fur as he put the syringe in. "I'm going to start injecting now, ok? Andy?" "Ok," i said and he pushed the plunger on the syringe. First, nothing happened. Then she went numb. Then she spasmed a little, jerking her head back. I saw her eyes lose . . . something. Then it was over. The doctor used the stethoscope and told me that her heart had stopped beating. He asked me if i wanted some time alone with her body, but i said i didn't. As far as i was concerned, Buttercup wasn't in that room anymore. We shook hands, he reassured me that i had made the right decision, and i left without saying another word.

Buttercup was awesome and beatufiul and loving. She will not be forgotten. Smash and i both miss her a great deal. At first, i wasn't sure if Smash had noticed that anything changed, but it's becoming obvious that he knows she won't be coming back. He just spent some time curled up with me on my desk, which he had never done before.

This is the most personal experience with death i've ever had. I don't know how people get through this where people they love are involved. I guess i'll cross that bridge when i come to it.