After I told them about her history and her recent behavior, they said she was not adoptable and recommended I release her for euthanasia. They said they would be willing to keep her for a couple of days, but they felt it would only increase her stress. So I decided to have her euthanized.
Afterwards, I had a very rough time of it. I don't think I've ever felt such pain. I felt heartbroken and guilty and complicit and full of "what if's." I felt like I had made the wrong decision for the wrong reasons -- convenience and cold curiosity.
I did what I could to console myself -- let OH hold me and made him listen to some of the nasty things I was saying to myself, petted my nice cuddly cat Selkie a lot, watched the Babylon 5 episode "Sleeping in Light," wrote more of the nasty things I was saying to myself in my journal, compulsively read The Economist (you know you are hurting when you read about the September 11 tragedy to distract yourself), stood out in the thunderstorm and soaked myself to the bone, did a shamanic journey and ritually cleaned up Silver's room, stayed up too late reading the net, read Rilke poetry, ate a bowl of cereal with cream. Even after all that I lay there for what felt like forever, feeling cold and wrapping up in more and more blankets, before I got to sleep.
This morning I woke up far too early, but with a comforting dream-message (Oc entering the room and saying "Love"). I was lying in bed obsessing about Silver and I suddenly remembered how Silver had been behaving when I had her in the big wire dog crate, before putting her in the bathroom. In the cage, she scarcely ate or drank, and she got pretty dehydrated. I realize that if I had left her at the shelter she would have done the same and felt miserable for the few days they might have kept her. So I am feeling more like I did the right thing after all.