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About Izegrim

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  • Loss Type
    My cat
  • Angel Date
    24th May 2017
  1. Dear I_Miss_My-Ted, KayC is right: all that anger is part of the grieving. And I do understand that you are angry with a good reason. The bedside manners of this emergency vet seem below par. But that doesn't mean she was wrong. The best advice I can give you: contact your own vet and tell what has happened. Maybe a conversation can help you get a better understanding of what has happened. He/she has dealt with Ted before and might have good advice for you. You're not alone in this and I'm sure he/she has dealt with these matters before. But I have to warn you: there will always be some doubt. Don't make it harder on yourself by focusing on what could or should have been. It will not help you accept what is!
  2. Thanks Had a big row with my mum yesterday. I told her I was thinking about getting a cat again. She was adamant about it: no more pets! We'll see ...
  3. Dear Gem55, I'm sorry for your loss. Of course you're still sobbing after two days ... the loss is recent and you've only just started mourning. I recently lost my cat and I can relate to the way you comforted your cat. You nursed her, rang vets and waited for people to help you ... that means that you did everything within your power to save her. And there's only so much we can do. You're only human ... I know that nursing a pet can be very exhausting. I tried to take care of mine for two months. But I'm not a miracle worker. Please stop the guilt: you told your cat that you loved her and to rest ... and she did. You may not have been there and then when she died, but you did give her 'permission' to rest. That was your 'goodbye' even if you didn't realize it then. Don't feel guilty about it ... in hindsight we can always blame ourselves, but that is with the knowledge we have now. I think you did great and I do see positive things despite what happened. Think about the stress of bringing the cat to the vet, for instance ... would that have been worth it? I don't know! I can only give you a virtual hug, but believe me: it's as real as it can get ... (((Gem55)))
  4. Dear I_miss_my_Ted, First of all I want to say that I'm sorry about your loss. If I look at your pics it reminds me of my last dog. Your little Ted looks a little bit like him and your story brings back some memories about mine. He had epilepsy too and only got to be one year old. But even in that one year, he had a bigger impact on my life than the previous one (14 years). Only last week I was walking with a new friend. Later on he send me an email. And he told me about his pet (a cat) who had epilepsy. It reminded me about the sheer panic when I saw my pet suffering from an attack. I'll spare you the details ... you KNOW them also, I'm sure. We tried to control the seizures, but the frequency went up and up. And then we got to a point where we had to make a tough decision. I think that 15 hours of seizures was that point for you. In my opinion you made the right choice. You didn't want to let go of Ted, but that would also mean that the suffering continued. And I don't think that you wanted that. I understand that there are questions, but stop with the 'if's ... it will only make you feel guilty. When I read about how many times you went to the vet and did all within YOUR power, there is no need for those 'if's. There is only so much you can do in those circumstances. Don't get me wrong: of course we do have those questions ... they're part of mourning. But don't dwell on them, because nobody can answer them. I wish I had some comforting words for you, because the speed with which this happened must've been a shock. Especially if your vet didn't give you enough info and you thought you were handling it. But from my experience: I think you did all you could do. It won't make the pain less, but you can stop wondering about 'what if'. .... and I do think that Ted had the greatest 'parents' he could've wished for!
  5. Today I brought back home my mum and a nearby neighbour. They go to some daycare-thing every Friday. Someone of her acquintances picks them up and haul them back in ... When that neighbour gets home, I always get her keys (she's getting forgetful) and open the door for her ... just to see that she get's home safely. But today a little black cat was sleeping on the doormat. I asked her about it and it was one of her cats. Pretty young, completely black ... and the thing tiny was lying there, 'til I approached. Was a bit shy, she told me. But it didn't move that far ... just a few yards. We talked a little bit about my cat and she told me to get a new one. I told her that it was a bit too early. But when I reached out for that little one, it started to smell my hand, let me caress it a little bit and while I was standing up and talking, it came and leaned into my legs ... how cats do. Very familiar ... You have no idea how happy I was ... that little bit of contact took sooooo much stress away from me! I thought this day was going to be a bad day, because I felt so sad (very tired and emotional), but this made up for it (at least for a big part). I just need pets around me ... I never knew how much they meant to me until now. I need their love and their 'understanding' ... and especially their hugs!!! *crying* I want to thank all my little non-humans for their support: I love you still!
  6. I'm really starting to feel the emptiness that death has left behind. Especially with all the aggravation in my life ... as if the burden of the loss isn't enough. I know that everyday life continues and that I can't hide from it. But why can't people just ASK if I want me to do something instead of forcing my hand over and over again? It drains the life out of me ... And when it comes to finding comfort, I miss my little furry friend so so much ... it's killing me. Just that little cuddle to relieve the stress. I thought the change in routine would be painful but something I could handle. But it seems that all my energy reserves are gone. I barely cry, but the pain is no less ... it's just as if I'm too tired to mourn. But even during the night it seems that my body reacts to all the stress and I get stomach pains. Which keep me from resting and in the morning I feel like somebody drove a truck over me. And that is just the start of a new day ...
  7. Hi Cassieann, Sorry to hear about your loss! I recognize the things you write and it makes me sad. And to be honest: I have nothing to say that can really take away a little of your pain. We can only do so much to take away the suffering and pain from our furry friends. And from what I read, you did all within your power to do just that. But don't feel guilty that it wasn't enough to save your little mate. Take also the next step and forgive yourself: you're only human! I certainly recognize the anxiety, the feeling of loss and feeling dead inside. I experience it everyday now that I put my little furry friend to sleep 4 weeks ago. What I find positive in your story is that you have friends around you that care about you. At least they ask what they can do for you. Although you may not have an answer (yet), I hope you will find one some day. Maybe a ritual to make your loss a bit less. For instance: I planted a little tree on his grave. And I will put some marble stones on it too (I'm not ready for that yet). Saturday I took a long walk with people from a foundation concerning anxiety. And one guy was really there for me: to hear my story ... and he put a hand on my right shoulder when my emotions took over. And those little gestures mean the world to me: because one other person put her hand on my left shoulder ... as if I got 'wings' now and a little of my burden has been lifted! I hope you can find some way to make your burden less ... time is your friend, but those real friends may also help you. Think out of the box and find a way out. Cheers, Izzy
  8. I can understand how emotional and shocking this must be for you. The shock of the event, but also the sudden loss of a pet you loved so dearly. I lost my first cat after one year: got run over by a car. It was still living, but the back of his body was completely crushed. We called some emergency but nobody responded. My mum took us kids to an aunt and uncle, while in the meantime my dad took care of the whole situation. What that meant, I only found out years after: he had to scrape the cat of the street, put it in a bag and drown it. I still hold a grudge against those organisations. And the guy who did it ... and that was about 40 years ago! I hope that you can get some help. Two years and still mourning like this ... that's a long time. Maybe writing down your story here can help ...
  9. Hello MissingBoo, Let me start by saying: "You can stop beating up yourself!" That's a battle you can never lose, but also never win! And I guess that last one was what you are aiming for. I read a lot of 'if's in your story and that's where a lot of your 'guilt' is originating from. But let go of that ... If I take some of the things you write into consideration (pregnancy, being tired) it's only human that you made those decisions back then. And I believe that they were good ones too. Tbh with a baby in your household, you seem to have made very healthy choices to change your priorities. And because some routines changed, the dog wasn't happy. You can't explain it to an animal, but that doesn't mean it wasn't OK or wrong. Just common sense. I bet you still took good care of your dog, just in a different way. And yes, she may have lost some priviliges. But that doesn't make you a bad or mean 'mama' ... more a case of tough love. I'll give you one thing to think about: if you can judge yourself and declare yourself guilty, you can also take the next step and forgive yourself. Maybe not now ... but in time. Just don't be so hard on yourself ... Izzy
  10. Today seems to be miserable again. Dreamed about my cat. Well not really him, but I heard him meowing. When I looked down, it was some bird mimicking his sound. Really strange: the bird wasn't even the kind that reproduces sounds. And now that I think of it: I doubt any bird could've come so close to get lessons from him! But it did disturb me. As a person with Asperger I'm very sensitive when it comes to sound. So 'hearing' my cat again upset me and I woke up crying. Lucky enough it was early so I could sleep a little more. I'm very tired these days anyway. When I got up and checked the forum I moderate (a Dutch grammar forum), somebody answered a message unexpectedly. He talked about how he loved Holland, but also how wonderful it was with all the cats there. He told us how a cat was his favourite animal and even his alter-ego. I was flabbergasted ... how did he start with that? I just answered a grammar question and he starts about cats? So that was surprise number two. Yesterday I got an idea to put some pebbles on the grave of the cat. I didn't like the rubble on it now. I was thinking about small white and maybe even some black rocks. So I went to the store and didn't really find what I was looking for. But then I saw some Carrara stones. Way bigger than I wanted, but I thought he deserved the best. (did make me ponder about the leftovers from those extremely expensive marble plates: about 500 dollar per 1000 kilo of their waste ... ). So I bought one sack and went home. All the hard work and stress made me sad again and I started crying in the car. But then something really surprised me: when I came home, I unloaded the car and brought the stones to the yard. Not using them immediately ... just waiting for the right moment. It was already getting cloudy and expected some rain and lightning, but still wanted to water the little tree. I use an empty plastic milk can for it. But when I put it back, I saw a little pluck of white hair on the small barrel I usually put that can on ... probably of his fur. What I don't understand is how this happened, because we use this can on a daily basis and usually submerge it in some rainwater reservoir to fill it. What I do know is that I'm still crying ... and it makes me crazy. Is this a sign? I'm too sober to really believe in it ... but it's eerie!
  11. I'm sorry I misunderstood your message. I did not mean to say that you were in shock, ignorant or selfish. Being a non-native speaker of the English language may be the cause. I was talking in general, but now that I look back at what I wrote it could come across as if it was about you. Maybe it was more about me ... Getting misdiagnosed seems to happen quite often. I see now why the second vet told me she specifically checked the mouth. It seems a common thing with cats from that age (mine was about 14). Problably from licking his fur and getting carcinogenic in their body. The fact that the tumour in my case was under his tongue, didn't make it any better. It was at the base and that made it almost impossible to operate. And that was my starting point: no prolonging of the suffering. When it comes to loyalty: I had two dogs, but my cat was more loyal to me than those two. The youngest dog had to be put down after one year because of epilepsy (too much breeding), but left quite an impact when he was gone. Still shoved my plate with food from the edge of the table for quite some time. My oldest dog was deaf and blind, but a good and loyal pet. They did euthanize him without telling me. I still hold a grudge against some people for that. Just like now ... my aunt calling every evening to ask about 'the situation'. And the evening he was gone, she had the nerve to call and start a discussion that her pain was much worse when her cat died. To be honest: it was an awful cat, who even hissed when she saw her own reflection in my glasses. And my aunt just used it to breed (Birman). My cat didn't even have a name: what was the point? If I called, he didn't come. But we did communicate on a different level. I just whistled and he would come when he was outside. We had our rituals and I knew him through and through. I knew what scared him and what triggered him. He bit and scratch my mum often, because she didn't respect him. Not violent towards him, but just too stubborn to really see what was going on. Claiming places and putting him aside. Even treating him like a human being. And that's not right! Sorry again about the miscommunication: you've been very kind and the last person I want offend here! Izzy
  12. Hi KayC, Thank you for your comforting words. I feel sorry about your loss, both human and animal. I want to tell you more about my gf, but I'm afraid it would derail this whole topic. Fact is that the cancer is as good as gone (we hope). It's not the main topic of our conversations anymore. It just a pity she drowns her sorrow in substance (ab)use. And I do think that if there is room for chitchat, there could be a little room for my grief too ... I'm only human. Just that one simple question would do. But if it's not, I'm still there for her ... 24/7. I think you're right about disappearing friends. We don't learn to deal with death when we grow up. And all those emotions scare people. And if they can run, they will. That's why a forum like this is so good. There just doesn't seem to be any room in daily life for people to show their grief. R.E.M. may be singing that 'everybody hurts', but in daily life it's still considered as to be weakness. We lick our own wounds and try to march on ... get things done. As if that is the ultimate virtue. It reminds me of a story by a priest, Han Fortmann. He tells about an Indian yogi and a Russian bureaucrat. The first one deals with all things in a mental way, the second in a physical way. Both are wrong/right, but need to balance their approach. I think that's why Mindfulness is so popular nowadays. Gives us room to take a little break and just look where we are standing. I always imagine a pan with some greasy liquid in it. And the mindfulness is like a drop of washing liquid ... you see the grease retract to the sides and it feels more tranquil. The dirt is still there, but now you have a chance to look at it and maybe find a way to start somewhere to clean it up. If I'd compare it to life: there will always be dirt (pain, loss, grief), but maybe this way we can manage it. We may not always solve things ... only manage and maybe cope. I understand when you say that you feel regret about not euthanising your cat earlier. Was it shock, ignorance about the situation, maybe a little selfishness for not being able to let go? I think a lot of people struggle with that. And afterwards they end up with feeling guilty about it. But I try to tell people that if you have the authority to blame yourself, you also have the authority to take the next step: forgive yourself! Maybe not now ... someday ... But having said all that: I still feel so out of balance. Still crying about the loss and feeling the emptiness. I don't feel guilty, but I do regret things that happened. I feel angry about it all ... in a big way ... blaming our creator for playing such a cruel joke on us human beings by creating love and loss. But I also know that would be a useless battle to pick. I've got enough battle scars as is. I cleaned my cat's grave a little bit yesterday and it felt good. But I still cry like a little child ... the hurt is still so overwhelming. I wish I had some ritual to deal with it. Now it seems that everywhere I go, I feel his absence. I'm scared to go to sleep and scared to wake up ... feeling so vulnerable. I eat almost nothing and only drink a little ... I'm just tired of everything .... can't cope. Sorry to anybody if they feel offended by my ranting about God. Not going to explain my negative experiences with men of the cloth ... different topic. What I'm trying to say: I think it's great if people really believe in a supreme being and lay their trouble in its hands. It's just not my cup o' tea and hope they can give me some space to express myself. I'll wait for the 'dies irae' if He exists.
  13. I lost my black/white furry hero about two and a half weeks ago. And I can imagine how sad you must feel. But I also want to point out that you made a courageous decision. It was a miserable choice to start with, but your little friend isn't suffering. I hope you can keep that in mind, although your emotion might say otherwise. Even after these few days I let go of my little hugger, my mind says: "Yes, you did the right thing" ... but my heart still screams: "No!" ... I'm not a firm believer in God or the church ... but I'll ask my furry friend anyway to welcome your little Harry ... and the same goes for Sid & Midnight, of course!
  14. First of all thank you for giving me an opportunity to express my grief. The situation I'm in now (diagnosed with Asperger and taking care of my old mum) doesn't make things any easier. I had to put my cat to sleep on 24th May. Since March he kept pulling his hair and we went to the vet to get him checked. This was a Belgian vet working in Holland, but he's mostly treating larger animals. His partner does the smaller pets, but I don't know if she works here or not. Fact is that they advertise that you can bring your pet with you when you visit them. Which isn't true, so the poor thing had to endure the stress of travelling at least three times before the vet could see him. He didn't do a good job and barely checked the cat. Just assumed it was lice and fleas. Gave him a shot, made me pay and we went. But the cat kept pulling out his hair. So we went back the next week. Got a shot again, some external treatment and the bill again. But it still didnt work. So a week and a half later we went to Belgium to visit the other vet. It took only 1 minute to get a decent diagnosis: he had a tumour under his tongue. My heart broke ... She knew her partner screwed things up, because she explicitely told us that she always checks the mouth! As a way of apology she only charged a small amount. We gave ourselves some time to make a decision. We didn't want to be selfish and let the suffering continue. But it would be a hard decision anyway. The cat was still very lively. I combed his hair because he wasn't able to get rid of the shedding hair. I gave him wet food, but he only licked off the jelly. He was still happy and my little mate kept me company as usual. Often standing between me and my laptop to receive a little cuddle, which was very good against my stress. He lay right next to (almost on) the laptop and we spent many hours like that. His little paws always making a little contact with my arm. At some moment I asked my mother what to do. And she was very determined: we'll put him to sleep on Friday. I cried my eyes out ... I tried to behave like the grown man I am and made an appointment. I told them that we didn't to prolong the suffering and choose to put him asleep. Because I didn't get any response from my vet, I went there myself. They got the appointment totally wrong and I rescheduled. But within a few days I had my doubts. Weren't there any other options? So I told my vet that I wanted to know if there were any other options. She phoned me and we agreed that she would sedate the cat, take a good look to see if the tumout could be removed and if that wasn't possible, he would die there. BUT when we got there, they just took him in and told us to pick him up within a few hours. They just took a biopt and send that off. I got a heavily sedated cat back. I cried my eyes out again: this was exactly the opposite of what I wanted ... the poor thing ate a little bit, but I was scared that he was killing himself ... his head was so deep in his bowl. Later on he threw up and I had to hold him up. He was still so sedated. Thank god that he didn't meow too much (I hate the sound of a suffering cat). Later he lied on the couch, but my mother let him go after me into the kitchen. Suddenly I heard him meowing again, because he tried to jump on the couch again but couldn't. He just clawed into some blanket and fell off again, while my mother was sitting right there !@#$%^&*()OP_+{ I took the cat with me to the other room and he only meowed when I was on the phone with my sister. He wanted to sit on the chair and he somehow managed to jump on it. A week later we still didn't hear from the vet. So by Tuesday we called and we got bad news: it was an agressive tumour and they could send the cat to some clinic for treatment. We told her that we did not want that. She asked if he was still eating and drinking and told us to make the best of it while it lasted. Problem was that by now I didn't want to let go. I still saw a lively cat that still left me "little presents" on my doorstep. But one Monday he was really not well. I knew that he sometimes had some problems with his bowel movements. I massaged his belly and it would be fine. But I guess from all different food and such, the stool was too hard for him. Later on he went outside (although he had been with me all day and seemed fine overall). He was hissing at me and hid in the bushes. I was very worried and we called several vets, but not one of them wanted to do anything. We almost called the vet that was on duty to have him put down immediately. But I kept checking the cat and wasn't ready to do just that. I saw that he was calming down and I just let him be. The next day he was lively again and it seemed as if nothing had happened. But we couldn't keep on going like that. So I looked for a vet who would be willing to put him asleep in our own home. I found one near our home, who's website was the only one dealing with this topic. When I went to make an appointment, my mother assumed I was going to take the cat with me and have it done. Really? Was she that eager to get rid of him? I got to the vet and a very understanding assistent wrote down all the details. When I got home, they called that they could do it the next day, right before noon. I didn't sleep mucht that night and let the cat go out earlier than usual. I wanted to make it as easy as it could. The rest of the morning he was beside me. Mostly because the housekeeper (we're not rich, but nowadays the community pays for some housekeeping) was using the hoover. I was scared that we wanted to go outside and I wouldn't be able to find him by the time the vet would come. I took him for a little walk, but my feelings were off. Dead cat walking ... The vet's office called that she was on the way and a half hour later she was there. Charming young woman who heard our story and did check the cat. I didn't see the purpose why, but I was too sad to make a whole scene. She told us that she was going to give him a shot in the hindleg. In hindsight: I was not happy with that. It may be the normal procedure, but it did hurt the cat. He jumped off the table, but the door was closed. I picked him up and tried to comfort him a little bit. Within half a minute he fell over. She put him on a cover and checked again to see if he was sedated enough. My mum kept babbling and babbling. Eventually she gave him the final shot (straight in the heart, although the belly would've been an option too ... but we wanted it to be quick and painless). And so my little furry hero passed away .... right next to me, where I'm sitting now. I expected him to slowly get sedated and come to me for comfort and 'fall asleep' in my arms. But alas that wasn't the case. Although I think the vet did a good job, it wasn't so easy as I expected it to be. Maybe my imagination made it more beautiful and soft. I didn't perceive it that way. I told the vet I would come to the office to pay so I had a chance to get out of the house. But first I showed her out and then I crashed. I almost panicked, but decided to bury him. I imagined taking some pictures and did just that. One when he was lying on the table, one in his favourite basket (which I bought for him to lie in when the sun went down at the end of the day) and one in his little grave (which I dug with my nephew, who owned the cat before ... long story). Although I had my doubts, the evening before I got a scare when I saw that the hair under the mouth of the cat was bloody. I didn't check it, but it convinced me that it was the right thing to do when I made the appointment earlier that day. The day after, I also saw a little blood, but I wasn't so worried. I was more busy with it being his last moments and was counting down. But this is all the rational part of the story. Emotionally I'm dying ... like I said (and from what I wrote above) these are stressful times. Taking care of my mum, who's quite stubborn. But also going through some rough times myself (my best girlfriend suffering from breast cancer, the mum of counsellor dying (he's more of a mate than a counsellor)), this also triggered my fear of abandonment. Losing my father 15 years ago was bad, but just last Thursday I remembered what helped. A few days after my father was buried, I went to my pub and every friend who was there gave me a big hug to comfort me. And that was also what my cat meant to me: my little friend who I could give a hug and comfort me. But now he's gone. I have to say that my 'new' counsellor is doing a great job, but it seems like I'm taking steps backwards in this whole process, instead of moving on. I try to go out of the house, but I'm scared. I feel panicky, I even start crying while I drive. The absence of my little friend is so overwhelming. I cry when I go to sleep and when I wake up. I get up and the door is still closed. I open it and go outside and go to his little grave and cry. I try to do what I have to do each day, but my heart isn't in it. I try distract myself, but it's not really working. I miss my little mate ... there's nothing there to get me through this, while it was him that made it all bearable. I thought some Family day would distract be a bit, but besides some snide remarks it were the pets that bothered me. And in this day and age they all had their smartphones to show us how lovely the pets are that weren't there. It hurt like hell to sit there and not being able to talk about my loss. I wasn't going to open to them and turn it into some therapy session. I tried to joke some, but it was all behind a painted smile ... In the mean time I've been writing to get things off my chest, but it doesn't work. Most people are very understanding and try to comfort me, but some fail miserably. Especially my mother, my brother and my sister. I'm also disappointed by my gf: I understand that she is having a hard time with her illness and her bad relationship. But if she calls me at one in the morning and she's crying (after about two hours she's laughing again), I expect some comforting back. Even just a simple question like: how are you doing/coping? We even have almost the same cat ... And my best friend is throwing all his 'garbage' at me because he is also trying to care of his parent (although via his rich and demanding brother). I can understand it all: those people need me ... I lent them my ear and eye, because I'm their friend. But now I need somebody ... and there is nobody to give me a hug ... I just don't know what to do. I planted a little tree on the grave and water it. But it's still so sad. It seems that my mind and my soul are so out of balance ... At moments I confront myself, but it's not a relieve afterwards. I just feel tired of all the emotions ... I thought I was moving forward a little bit, but these last few days it seems as if I'm taking steps backward. Crying and hurting more and more ... and today is particularly bad. I miss my cat sooo much!