Two sets of remains were returned home yesterday. Meaty and Thor.

I have told Meaty’s story, but I haven’t told you about Thor yet.

I think I’ve been avoiding it because I’m still struggling with one question: Did I do the right thing?

Over a week ago, Chad called me about his 20-year-old cat, Thor. He told me Thor wasn’t eating or drinking much anymore and had become very lethargic. I told him what I always tell people in these situations: I am not a veterinarian, and I cannot diagnose an animal. But what he was describing concerned me, and I urged him to seek veterinary care.

As we talked, I learned that Chad is also caring for his two elderly parents, including his father, who has alzheimers. He already had so much on his shoulders.

I happened to have a veterinary appointment the following morning for Princess, who has been dealing with an ear tumor and infection. I told Chad that if he would trust me with Thor, I would pick him up, bring him to the appointment, and pay to have him evaluated.

The next morning when I saw Thor, my heart sank.

Something was seriously wrong.

We gently placed him into a carrier and put him in my car. Before I even pulled away, Thor began making strange sounds.

I asked Chad, “Has he been making those sounds?” He said no.

Chad came around to Thor’s side of the car, reached his hand into the carrier, rubbed his old friend and said:

“You’re okay, buddy.”

And then I drove away.

It was about a 50-minute drive to Desert Community Animal Care in Desert Hot Springs.

When I arrived, I asked if there was any way they could see both Princess and Thor because I believed Thor was an emergency.

They told me they could not. So I switched the appointment so they would see Thor instead.

When we opened the carrier Thor was already gone. He had died during the drive. And that moment has stayed with me. I keep replaying it. The purpose of taking Thor with me was to help him. He clearly needed medical attention. I was trying to get him to someone who could tell us what was happening and what could be done. But I also know that he was 20 years old and very sick.

And I wonder whether the stress of that car ride was simply too much. I wonder whether I should have done something differently.

Should I have tried to find a mobile veterinarian who could come to the house?

Would a veterinarian have recognized immediately that Thor was dying and helped his family make the decision to peacefully end his suffering there, surrounded by the people he had known his entire life?

Instead, Thor’s last moments were in a carrier, in a car with a stranger.

And because I am not a veterinarian, I could not tell Chad that it was time to euthanize Thor. That is not a decision I am qualified to make.

All I could do was what I knew how to do:

Get him to medical care. I could provide the transportation.

I could pay the bill.

I called Chad and told him Thor was gone. I apologized over and over. I asked if I could have Thor cremated so that I could bring him home the next week. He agreed.

And then Chad did something incredibly gracious.

He told me not to carry this.

He reminded me that Thor had lived a good, long life.

And he told me this was not my fault.

He was comforting me, when my whole reason for existence in that moment was to comfort him.

Yesterday, I returned to Desert Community Animal Care to pick up a new antibiotic for Princess’s ear infection and tumor. Earlier that morning, I had dropped Koda off at VCA Yucca Valley for testing, and the two-hour wait gave me just enough time to make the drive to Desert Hot Springs. While I was there, I picked up Thor’s remains. So yesterday, Thor finally came home.

Thor taught me something.

If I am ever confronted with circumstances like these again, I may make a different call. I may try first to bring veterinary care to the animal rather than bringing the animal to veterinary care.

I am learning.

Bella Bear’s Senior Pet Sanctuary is still young, and unfortunately some of the most important lessons in this work are learned through heartbreak.

I will remember that 20-year-old kitty.

I will remember Chad reaching into that carrier and saying, “You’re okay, buddy.” Maybe that made Thor feel like he could finally let go.

Rest peacefully, Thor.

You were loved for twenty remarkable years.

And even though I only knew you for a very short time, you mattered to me, too.