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| Nels 2009 - 2020 |
The day after my birthday, I took Nels to the veterinarian because I noticed he had been drinking so much water. Due to COVID, I had to wait in the parking lot while he was inside the building. Twice during the two hours I waited, the veterinarian phoned me to tell me Nels has been diagnosed with advanced diabetes. He wanted me to bring him back to the clinic in two days and leave him there throughout the day while they checked his glucose levels. After that they would tell me how much insulin I would have to give him twice a day, and that I would have to bring him to the clinic twice a week going forward to have his foot pricked to test his glucose level.
I brought him home, and the next day I prayed and prayed, and cried and cried. I came to the conclusion I was not a candidate for this. I didn't want my last memories of him being me catching him to give him another shot. So I called and canceled my appointment.
The follow day the veterinarian phoned me to tell me he understood my decision. He had a feeling that is how I would react. I asked him what to expect and he said the food Nels is eating is not nourishing him. Rather, it is turning to sugar and he is peeing it out. He went on to say Nels would begin having diarrhea, vomiting, or getting very weak.
I watched for those signs, but continued to love him and take a lot of photos of him. I thought back about six or seven weeks and recalled he no longer had jumped up to his cat tree, and also had stopped sleeping with me at night. He drank about two bowls full of water each day and I had to clean out the litter box about three or four times a day. He stayed pretty close to the bathroom and kitchen.
Three weeks after I got the bad news, I made an appointment to have him euthanized. It was a hard decision, and I vacillated about keeping the appointment. Three nights before that date, I played with Nels and the laser light. He always came running when he heard me take it from the cupboard. He ran and ran, and I thought I was making the wrong decision. But the next morning, he was lying by my kitchen table while I ate, and he could barely stand. All through the day he would come close to wherever I was and just flop down on the floor. This continued on to the next day—the day of our appointment.
Once at the clinic, they took Nels from my car and told me they would put him in a room and sedate him. Once he was drowsy, they would call me to come into the building. This is an exception they make during COVID. I was ushered to a room and told to wait there. About 12 minutes later the veterinarian came in to say Nels was still very active, so they were going to give him a second shot to sedate him. I waited a period of time and again he came in to say they were having to give him a third shot. After a few minutes, he brought Nels into my room. The first thing I noticed was his front paw was wrapped in a blue bandage. It had a port sort of thing hanging from it. The doctor put Nels on the table in front of me, and he tried to climb off. The veterinarian told me Nels was a lot like him. He was part Irish and part German and could drink a lot of beer and it didn't affect him. That little bit of humor helped a wee bit. He told me I could take a few minutes to say my good-byes to Nels. I petted him, kissed his head, told him I loved him, and would miss him very much. Then the veterinarian asked me if I was ready. I said I was, and he gave Nels the final shot. Nels' head relaxed on his paws, and he was gone. I was left alone with him for about ten minutes. I petted and petted him, and held his paws. That was one thing he never liked me to do. He would always pull away. When I felt I could finally leave him, I kissed his head once more. He was still warm.
Nels was cremated and his ashes are in a beautiful wooden box. A few weeks before he died I sent photos away to be printed in a hardbound book. I treasure his memory.
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| Book of Nels |
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| Nels in one of his favorite places |
