Page 99 of Please Don't Leave Me

“I think that’s a smart choice. While I’m prepping him, my assistant will come in and go over some stuff with you. If you have any questions, just let the front desk know, and they will come ask us.”

The assistant comes in and goes through the financials with us. The surgery is $4,000, and that’s not including aftercare, medicines, and spending a few nights here to recover. I sign the papers, only thinking about Pepin and how much I need him to make it.

“The surgery will take several hours. You guys can go home and rest. We will call you with updates. There’s really no point in waiting here since you won’t be able to take him home tonight anyway.”

I don’t want to leave him here alone, but I’m exhausted.

Sam puts his hand on mine. “We can wait here if you’d like.”

“No, we should go home. There’s nothing we can do here.”

We gather up our few things and walk to the car, hand in hand. As we drive home in silence, I stare out the window at the leaves starting to change colors. Fall is my favorite time of year; something about it just feels so warm and cozy to me. But looking out at the beautiful fall colors right now, I don't feel any joy. Just sadness.

SAM

When we get home, I make dinner, but Lou barely eats anything. I can tell she's riddled with anxiety, and I feel helpless. She's been in a daze ever since I pulled up to the curb with my truck and loaded Pepin in the car. I tried to handle a lot of the logistical things for her so she wouldn't get too stressed.

It's been three hours since we left the clinic, and still no word. We're sitting on the couch with a movie playing on the TV, but I know neither of us is watching it. Her head is lying on my lap, and I'm playing with her hair and rubbing her back. Every now and then, I feel a tear drop onto my thigh.

Her phone rings on the coffee table, and she shoots up, almost hitting her head on my chin. It's an unknown number, so I assume it's the clinic. My mind flashes back to last fall when I got the call about Jacob. My heart squeezes in my chest, and I feel sick. It makes me wonder if that trigger will ever go away.

She answers, and I can barely make out the voice on the other end; all I hear is Pepin's name, so I know it's the vet.

Lou puts her hand over her mouth, trying to choke back a sob. Her eyes fill with tears, and I can't yet tell if she's relieved or devastated. She doesn’t say anything, just mumbles "mhmm" occasionally. I put my hand on her back and try to lean in closer to hear what they're saying. All I hear is, "...give us a call back when you make a decision." Then Lou drops the phone down to her lap, and she breaks.

I know now that it can't be good news.

I wrap her in my arms and hold her close. She can barely breathe through her sobs, tears soaking my shirt. My heart aches for her, and my own eyes start to fill with tears. Though a brother and a pet may be different, I know what loss feels like. I know the pain and the disbelief that this is happening to you. I know the feeling you get, like you can't breathe, like your head, your heart, and your lungs are all going to implode.

I try to control my breathing, taking deep, slow breaths in hopes it will help slow hers. After a few, she sucks in a deep breath, holds it, and slowly lets it out. I say softly into her hair, "Thatta girl. Just try to breathe." Her rhythm matches mine, but her body still shakes. I pull her onto my lap and tuck her head into my neck. We sit there for a while before she finally speaks.

She pulls back and looks at me. Her words are choppy and muddled with sobs, but I can still understand her. "Too much of his tissue has died." She sniffles. "She said they could finish the surgery, but there's a chance he wouldn't make it long or wouldn't have a great quality of life." Her breath catches, and she takes a moment to clear her throat. "She asked me to decide if we want to try or if we want to let him go."

I tread carefully, knowing there is no right thing to say in this moment. "Are you leaning one way or the other?"

Her palms press into her eyes as if she's trying to stop the tears from falling out. "I know what Ishoulddo, but I just can't do it."

She has an incredibly hard decision to make, and I almost just wish he would have passed. Giving her that decision may seem like a good thing, but no one wants to be the one making a decision to end a life. No one.

"He's old, and I just don't want him to be in pain for a few weeks or months and then pass anyway."

"I am not trying to sway your decision one way or another, but I do think that Pepin had a pretty awesome day today. Some people don't get the chance to give their pets a great last day, and if we were to wake him up, you can't guarantee he'll go peacefully. But I completely understand if you don't want to…let him go." I almost said "give up on him," but that's not what she'd be doing, knowing the odds look so bleak.

"I know, that's exactly what I was thinking." She curls up in my lap again and cries.

“And Lou…”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t just give him a great last day; you gave him a whole year of being loved and cared for.”

She sniffles and nods, too choked up to reply.

She grabs her phone and calls the number back. My heart starts racing. I know what I just said, but dialing the number and officially giving a decision carries such a heavy weight, even more than it did minutes ago. A tear falls down my face and lands on Lou’s cheek.

She lifts her head and catches me crying. I was really trying to hold it in for her, but it's just coming out of me. Shetouches my cheek and wipes away another tear with her thumb.

"I'm supposed to be the one doing that for you, not the other way around." My voice is weak and shaky.

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