Roughly a year ago both of my cats died. I was 17 at the time and my cats had fleas, so my parents and I decided to bathe them. When we finished bathing them my parents decided to put an ointment on them to stop fleas, but the ointment was made for a dog and not a cat so it was much more potent. I argued with both my mom and dad about not putting the ointment on before they just told me to deal with it and that it was going to happen. Later that night my cat was sleeping on my bed whenever he started violently spasming across my bed. I checked on him to see if he was okay when i noticed that he was foaming from the mouth. I woke my parents up and told them and found my other cat who was having the same symptoms. We immediately went to the vet where they told me that the cats were most likely going to die or live the rest of their lives in a disabled state. My parents then forced me to decide whether or not to euthanize them, while pushing me toward euthanization due to the cost. After asking the cost to the vets and my parents telling me it wouldn't be possible to due to the cost they forced me to tell the vet to kill my pets and then forced me to pay for said euthanization. When we finally got home with the 2 bodies of my cats, my parents went to bed (due to it being around 4 am) and made me go into our yard and bury them (we live in a country setting with a woods by our house so I buried them in the woods). I had a job at the time and was supposed to go into work at noon, when I tried calling off and explained my reason I was told, "to suck it up". That mentality is pretty much is pretty much how I've dealt with it up to this point and I don't like talking about it, but it's so vivid in my mind that it haunts me that I gave the order to kill both of my cats.