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Saturday, October 3, 2015

A Hard Memory-- comes with a warning note (see below)

WARNING NOTE: do not read this post if you are very tender hearted about dying animals. It's heart breaking. It's not gruesome or nasty but just really really sad. 

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On Monday when I put my beloved iguanas down, I had an extra traumatic experience that has been too painful to recount until now. I still expect to cry as I write this though. 


Sancho died very quickly and very peacefully. I held her as her breath slowed and she went to sleep for good. Her tail (where they injected her) bled on me and her nail scratched a hole in my shirt and her spines scratched up my arms, but she passed peacefully. 


Turbo didn't die quickly. He went to sleep and snuggled into my neck, but he didn't stop breathing. 


5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes. Sancho was long gone. The vet came in multiple times, but Turbo was still breathing. 


Finally- after about 35 minutes, the vet decided to give Turbo another injection. But, since there wasn't enough blood pressure left in his tail, he injected it into his belly. And then left. 

It must have hurt poor Turbo who reared up and struggled against me. His mouth was gaping and he was trying to thrash about. I kept trying to hold him and soothe him, but I couldn't hardly talk because I was sobbing. 

Turbo didn't die easily or quickly or nicely. It has been haunting me. It felt like forever until he calmed down though it was only a few minutes. When he was gone, I knew it. I didn't need the vet to use his heart monitor. Turbo was gone. I laid him down on the towel next to Sancho. 


I took a few pics and paid my bill. I didn't even wait for the vet to come back in to checkI left. I was numb and aching all at the same time. I felt broken and I was tired of sobbing in public. 


I got in my van and just sat there, staring down at my hands. My shirt had iguana blood and pee (Sancho lost control of her bowels at the end). My hands and arms were scratched. My head was aching from crying. I was a mess. I just sat there, unable to move. 

I heard a tap on the window. It was my vet. I rolled down the window. He reached in, patted me softly on the shoulder, and said he was sorry. I shrugged in response. I appreciated his gesture but I had nothing to give back. 

Later that night, as my sweet husband wrapped his arms around me, I choked out the experience of Turbo thrashing. The pain of the memory was festering in my heart and I couldn't bear the weight of it. I had to share it. I felt slightly better after telling someone. That's the point of this post too. I can't carry the weight of those sad 5 minutes alone. I need to let them go so I can remember the good times instead. 

I'm so sorry, Turbo. I'm sorry if I made you die. You were so sick and only getting worse. I couldn't watch you suffer any more. I'm sorry the last 5 minutes of your life sucked. I hope you forgot all about it as your sweet iguana soul went back to heaven. I love you dearly. I'll never forget you and I'm sorry. Always remember us snuggling together while I rocked you. Those will always be the happy times. 


With love forever for my handi-capable iguana Sancho and my one eyed lover boy Turbo. You both were the best.