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Found 23 results

  1. I don't even know where to start, so I suppose I'll start at the beginning. 16 years ago I was rollerblading on a bike trail... tells ya how long ago this really was right?? As I'm rolling down the trail this beautiful black cat literally crosses my path. She walks out of the woods, and sits down and just stares at me with these big yellow saucer eyes. She meows at me, and it's love at first site. I picked her up and rolled back to my car with her. Let me tell you, roller blading with no arm balance is no easy feat, but I'd do it all over again a million times if it'd bring her back. I wasn't allowed to have pets, and I told myself that I'd take her to the animal shelter in a few days. She ended up with a name right away (Mitsu) and a box of toys that would go along with her, whenever I would get around to taking her there... Well, needless to say 16 years later I'm writing on a forum grieving over her. She was an amazing cat from the start, and she always looked excited with those wide eyes of hers. In all these years together she has watched me make a million mistakes, and rejoice over several great accomplishments. She was by my side without fail, and when ever the hardships of my life would occur, she didn't mind that I got those salty tears caught up in her fur. She just stared at me lovingly and let me pet her and hug her. I used to joke around that moving was a hobby of mine, and although she didn't enjoy it she came right along for every move I've ever made. When the world would spin out of control and everything would change at a rapid pace, she was the one constant. She was always there, loving me, and man I loved her right back. 6 years ago I brought her a furry friend and I didn't know how she'd take it. She'd had a couple other pets join her along the way when I'd had a roommate or boyfriend who'd bring theirs along, and she was never very thrilled about it. She wanted me all to herself. When I brought Zombie home, he was smaller than her which cracked me up. She was only 6 pounds her whole life, and Zombie is all of 4 pounds and shorter than her. He is a Yorkie Chihuahua pound puppy and I'll admit, it took her a short amount of time to love him. But then I'd catch them snuggled up together. When I met my boyfriend she fell in love for the first time. She loved him in the same way that she loved me, and he treated her as if she had always been in his life. We were a happy little family. I'd had her checked out at the vet less than 2 years ago, and he was amazed at how healthy she was for her age. I guess this is why I'm so devastated now. I realize she was getting old but there was just no warning. She was fine last Wednesday before I left for work. She followed me around like normal and even played with her favorite mouse toy. When I got home a few hours later I couldn't find her and I knew something was instantly wrong. I called for her, and she made the most horrific meowing sound that I'd ever heard. I scooped her up and we got her to the ER vet as quickly as we could. They took her from us as soon as we rushed in, and hooked her up to an IV. Thursday morning I called to check on her, and they weren't having much success finding out exactly what was wrong with her. When we went to see her Thursday night I knew we were going to lose her. It took my breath away seeing her nearly lifeless body. The only way I could tell she was alive was by the rise and fall of her breath in her body. She was unresponsive and her eyes seemed to stare at nothing. The vet tech said she had been like that all day. When I talked to the vet earlier in the day, he said she was still feeling dumpy, but I had no idea she was like this. After about an hour us talking to her and petting her, she did headbutt my boyfriend's hand for some more affection. She always did this, and it was very uplifting. I got up to sit down behind her, and she actually got up and turned around to face me. I just pulled her close to me and hugged her and kissed her so many times, as my tears dripped onto her and silently slid onto the blanket she was laying on. I told her how much I loved her and told her that if she was suffering to let go, that we would understand and in time be ok. The vet came in to check on her, and I told him that I didn't want her to suffer and asked if we should euthanize her. He assured me that he was still working on treating her, and he still had some hope that he could get her better if she would hold on for a little longer. It was after midnight, and I told him I'd give him until the next morning. A few hours later we got the call that she had stopped breathing. We went to see her one final time to say goodbye. I know that we were lucky because we got that chance, but it was so sudden, and she died the day before my birthday. Tomorrow it will be a week, and I have not been able to eat, and there is a ragged feeling in my body. I am just destroyed over this and I don't know what to do. I just watched 16 years fade away. I don't feel like talking to anyone I know because they just don't get it. I have been told that this is life, and everyone dies...etc. My boss told me to smile, and that I just needed to get another cat. Smiling is the last thing I feel like doing. Zombie is beside himself, and he keeps going to look for her. I put the blanket that she slept on next to me and he finally stopped and laid down on it. I don't know where to go from here. Any advice? Sorry for the long post, I'd heard that writing about them and their loss would help. So thank you for reading and for any help you can offer.
  2. Hi everyone. On Friday I lost my 4 year old Bengal cat, Leila. She will never leave the house for more than a few hours and when she didn't come home to eat on Thursday I knew something was up. I began putting posters up and did a letterbox drop to my closest neighbours at around 3pm on Friday. I had been walking the neighbourhood and calling her name with her biscuits in my hand. At 5.30pm I went to go for another round of calling when I saw my little girl lying on the road near my house. I collapsed and screamed, my neighbours and my whole family came running out of the house and helped me up off the floor and in that moment I had a good look at her. My bubba had been deceased for over 24 hours. I wont go into the details of the horrendous image I saw, but she was no longer my Leila, she looked so different. Someone had strategically placed her there after seeing the letter in their letterbox. I have been a mess ever since I found her. I have been yelling and crying in pain, I haven't been able to get on with my routine, I haven't been able to go back to work. The house is empty, she is gone, and things don't feel right. The way this all happened has affected me more than I could explain. I am making myself sick trying to found out what happened to her. Was she hit by a car? Was this an act of cruelty? Did she suffer, was she lying out in the cold still alive waiting for her Mummy to come and rescue her? Leila had a wound on her head but the rest of her body was unscathed. Has anyone had experience with losing a pet this way? Can you offer me some advice or how I could go about finding out what happened to her? I will continue to stress about it until I find out. I have asked my neighbours but I don't think anyone is game enough to fess up. I know it was one of them because why else would they put her out on the road after me pleading to everyone to please help me find her and that I wasn't coping. Has anyone gotten in touch with an animal medium or communicator to find out what happened to their baby? I'm scared that I wont get the answer that I want. Any help is appreciated. Kind regards, Mel.
  3. I am really struggling with the death of my 15 year old cat, Moo. I made the choice to put him down on Wednesday after a long happy life together. We were best friends. I got him for my tenth birthday, we did everything together. I knew he had kidney disease, but I had him on a special diet and medication until he started bleeding from his back end on Tuesday. We went to the vet and he told me it would cost thousands to just figure out what exactly was causing him so much discomfort. He stopped eating, drinking. But part of me still thinks I made a horrible choice to end his life. He wasn't looking good but I keep thinking, what if he got better. The vet gave me an option to take him home for a few weeks with new medication, but it likely wouldn't have worked. I feel so guilty for it. What if he had more time here and I took it away from him. The thought of never seeing him again kills me. If anyone has any advice, it might help me...
  4. it's been 7 days since my died from car accident he got hit by car in middle night when i still fall asleep. that tragedy are so horrible it's worse nightmare i ever got in my life, my cat is only 3 years old cat in human year and i really love him we always spend together sleep together and play together everyday, seing his favorite place and thinking about him it make me sad and it happen everytime since he is passed, he is so young and i,m so sad when god take him, since that day i can't sleep or eat well, when i go to bed i just remember him and my head so hurt and got many bad dreams every i sleep recently, i just feel depressed and devastated and i think this feeling will hurt me for the whole my life, i hope i can back on that time so i can save him from that accident but i understand that is imposible even i still think to back on time so many time. I learn now that keep cat inside especialy at middle night and if your house close to road are very important, i keep my cat inside everyday but i can't understand why on that time he get out home and hit by car are really sad for me, I hope anyone will never feel the same tragedy and also for myself again. Sorry for my bad English and R.I.P my cat.
  5. Hi everyone, This is probably going to be a long post, and I apologize if it's a little disjointed or hard to follow. I've got a lot on my mind right now. Early in the morning of February 5th, my wife and I got a call from the vet that our cat Shadow had suffered a seizure and died. We'd brought him into the vet due to his lethargy and refusal to eat. For weeks he'd been slower to move around than usual, and in the early going he had a runny eye. Since our other cat had just gotten over some sneezing that had lasted a couple of weeks, we didn't think much of it at first. We took him to the vet for the first time because his lethargy had gotten a little worrying. The vet took his temperature and said he had a really bad fever. He gave Shadow a shot to reduce the fever, and a couple of antibiotic shots to keep his upper respiratory infection from letting bacterial infections in. He sent us home with some ointment for Shadow's eye as well. For a couple of days, Shadow was almost back to his usual self. Then he started getting lethargic again. Our usually highly-social cat was hiding and growling if he thought we were going to try to move him, or whenever we started to pick him up. We brought him back, and the vets gave us a gel-style medicine to try to help him fight off the virus. He took this medicine twice before turning his nose up completely. We stopped worrying about giving it to him, but within a couple of days, he was not eating at all. So we brought him back to the vet. On this trip, like trips before, he seemed to do better as soon as we got to the vet. The doctor tried giving him some special recovery food, designed to be extra palatable, and Shadow went nuts for it. We brought him home with a few cans of the food. That was Thursday night. Come Saturday morning he wasn't eating at all. He wasn't moving under his own power. On Friday we had him up on the bed and he didn't move at all when he had to pee. He just wet the bed. We found him Friday night wedged into a corner, his head caught behind one of the bars for the radiator. We had to struggle to get him out. So Saturday morning we made another call to the vet, and brought him in for an appointment at 5:30 that afternoon. He barely responded to anything. The vet did some bloodwork and got him set up on an IV. The bloodwork didn't show anything life threatening, just a few levels that were out of whack, consistent with having an infection and not eating. Once we were done talking to the vet, we said our goodbyes and left Shadow there on his IV drip, figuring we'd be picking him up in a day or two. It was that night that we got the call about the seizure. When we went in to see him, they told us that his front legs had seized up, stretched out in front of him. His jaw had locked in place. He'd vomited up pieces of tissue, and his stool was black and tarry like he had suffered internal bleeding. The vet said it was consistent with poisoning, but I know we were careful with him. We knew he would eat the most random things, and we wouldn't have left anything dangerous. We didn't even have anything containing strychnine, which the vet said it looked like. We think maybe it had been cancer, or some other disease that had riddled his insides without us knowing. I was, and still am, completely crushed. Shadow was only about eight and a half years old. We'd adopted him shortly after losing another cat, whose death I had also taken very hard. We'd had Shadow for five years, and he'd had a couple of health scares a couple of years ago that were resolved. But now that he's gone for real, I'm struggling. At first, I was just devastated. I was crying and screaming and punching my pillow--all the usual signs of grief. Then for a day or too, I thought I was okay. I was keeping it together. But for the last few days now, I'm not okay. I'm not as outwardly upset as I was at first. But I keep thinking about him. When I recognize that he's gone, it brings a lump to my throat and I say and think things like, "I wish you could come home." But the worst part is that I still keep thinking of him as alive. It's the emotional equivalent of missing the last step going down the stairs. I just get completely jarred and rattled, because one second I'm thinking about him like he's still there, and the next second I'm reminding myself that he's gone. It's like I start to feel normal again, but then normal ends up hurting me, because I forget that he's gone. I want to stop forgetting. I want to start adjusting to it. But everywhere I look in my apartment, I can see him. He was a huge part of my life, and it feels like there are significant parts of me that just aren't ready to accept the fact that he's gone. I want to accept it. I want to be able to remember my baby without feeling the emotional sucker punch that comes with it. I just don't know how to get there. Anyway, thanks for reading. To anyone else who is going through something similar, I'm sorry for your loss. My Shadow meant the world to me, so I know how much you're hurting right now too.
  6. My beloved cat, Starbuck, died on Monday, January 16th. He was diagnosed with cancer about a week prior, and the vets at his care center gave him his first chemo treatment the day after diagnosis. Starbuck's full story can be found here : Starbuck's GoFundMe Page (we are no longer seeking donations). Long story short (unless you followed the link), Starbuck got better, then worse, then a little better, then even worse, and through it all, the doctors continued to give me hope, saying things like, "If we can just get him over this hump, the chemo can do its work", and "If we can just get food in him for a few days, he'll be much more stable." I just wanted my kitty to live a little longer, and it seemed like a real possibility, the way they explained it, and all the research I did online seemed to support what they were saying. But after we'd spent $6000 on blood transfusions and a feeding tube and meds and oxygen and ultrasounds and centesis and hospitalization, we ran out of money. The vet called me Monday morning to check in, and let me know Starbuck was doing about the same. I informed him that we had to bring Starbuck home at this point, because we were flat broke. He said he'd write up some detailed instructions for home care. My dog died in November of 2016, we'd had to have her euthanized at this same veterinary facility. The cost was $900. My four children and I got Starbuck home around 1pm. He was MUCH worse off than I'd been led to believe. He was pitiful, and it was obvious he did not have long. My kids were seeing this first hand, and with the exception of one holdout, we agreed that Starbuck needed to be put to sleep, as a kindness. The one holdout, my oldest son, was fully on board with euthanasia by the time of Starbuck's death, which was at 2:30. Until the last minute, he'd still had hope we might find some more money, or that one more dose of medicine might help, or maybe if we waited long enough, Starbuck would improve. He was grasping for any straw out there, he wanted his kitty to live, and I love him for it. Unfortunately, we never had time to act on the euthanasia plan, even though I had found someone to come to our home and do it, at a price my parents were willing to pay, due to our current financial situation. I had read up on ways to comfort a sick and dying cat, and we'd prepared our home in every way we possibly could. He had a cozy bed and blankets in a warm, quiet, draft-free part of the house. His water dish and litter box were right at hand. We had quiet nature sounds playing, and soft, indirect lighting for him to see by. There was room for all of us to gather around him and pet him. We had tried to see to Starbuck's every comfort, and between the five of us, we were ready to provide round the clock care. It wasn't enough. His ending was awful. We were all there, petting him, telling him we loved him, saying that it was okay to stop fighting and let go. He gasped his last breath surrounded by loved ones, but it wasn't peaceful, it wasn't dignified, and I wished to god I'd had enough time to arrange a better ending for him. He was such a good kitty, he was so sweet and gentle and funny, he was so LOVED, and he didn't deserve to die like that, to spend his last moments on earth in distress and pain. I can't stop seeing it over and over in my mind, and it hurts more than anything I've ever experienced. How do I get past this? I can't sleep, I can't eat, and everything I see reminds me of Starbuck. I'm a useless person while I'm consumed with this much grief and guilt, and I want to get better. What do I do?
  7. This is written for my most wonderful shaded silver Persian cat, Flutter, who passed away at 10:45 pm, New Year's Eve, December 31, 2007. I remember wanting a chinchilla Persian from the time I was 4....but it would not be until some 25 years later that you walked into my life. And even then, it was a lucky accident because I wasn't even searching for a cat like you. I wanted a brown tabby Maine Coon, Norwegian forest, or another that looked like the 12 year-old cat who had just passed. I found you at a cat show, playing with your brother and sister. You were all 6 months old and so energetic--and I stood there mesmerized. Before I knew it, I had made arrangements for your purchase and adoption. I was to bring you home the next day. I was initially unhappy--because you were. When I brought you home on Sunday, you hid under the radiator. You wouldn't come out at all. On Wednesday, when I brought you to the vet for your first visit, there was progress of sorts as you actually came out of hiding at 6 pm and ate! You even played until I went to bed. And so it was like this for the next few weeks when you would hide behind the sofa for much of the day, only to emerge at dinner....I joked that I should have named you Casper the friendly ghost because you only ever appeared when it was dark outside. You began to snuggle with me at much that I wound up with a nasty rash for weeks that made me wonder if I didn't have a cat allergy. I was even beginning to think that I might have to bring you back to the breeder who was understanding enough to say yes. But I also began to love you so much that I knew I just couldn't do that--not when we had started to bond. And just like that Disney hit that appeared at this very time, we were beauty and the, of course, were the beauty with your big green eyeliner eyes, pink nose, fluffy white fur--and I, the beast. "Tale as old as time True as it can be Barely even friends Then somebody bends Unexpectedly Just a little change Small, to say the least Both a little scared Neither one prepared Beauty and the Beast" You became attached to me. You seemed to know my daily schedule. You'd sleep under the dining table as I worked, grading essays online. Then at 4, when I was done, you would join me at the sofa, sitting in my lap for a few minutes before taking your place by my side. You, unlike my other cats, enjoyed "people" food too: you would clamour for yogurt, ice cream, pizza, steak, and lamb. And you would be there until it was time for bed: and you always knew when I was going, even when I went very early. You didn't like the dark; if I put my head under the blankets you would meow until I petted you just like you would wait for me by the door when I returned at night. You always seemed to know hen I was sick: you'd sleep by me, and look as though you were taking my temperature when you put your paw on my forehead. You also knew when I was going away even though I'd try to hide it. I can still remember that day when you walked me down the hall when I was leaving to see a friend. And when I returned, you were overjoyed, following me everywhere. Years went early 2006, you began to have problems, even though you had always been healthy. It started with your unwillingness to eat. I remember how you bit into your food and yowled such that I immediately knew you must have had problems with your teeth, but the idiot vet insisted that all your issues were intestinal and/or psychological! That summer, you had a feeding tube inserted. It wasn't until I brought you to a veterinary dentist that I realized I was right all along when she discovered that you had a mass in your right jaw....but that it would have be seen by a radiologist. That was one of the worst and best days of my life. I still remember how mom and I were told by the radiologist that it was cancer and that it was probably inoperable. We were almost ready to put you to sleep....until the surgeon told us that it could be done. So you were there for the operation and two additional days. And then nearly, a week later it seemed like a miracle when you started eating by yourself--and playing too! Not only that, but the pathologist discovered that you did not have cancer after all, but some sort of fibrosis. In September 2007, we moved to CT....a decision which I still wonder about even as I'd always wanted to return to the East Coast. By then you were functioning quite well without your feeding tube and you looked well. But things began to change in October, You began to lose your appetite again. Although you seemed to do well after a visit to the vet in November, you deteriorated rapidly, requiring hospitalization. In December, you were back on a feeding tube. We kept waiting for you to improve, just like last time--even though you were missing the litterbox which you had never done before. Perhaps the fortune in a cookie was not inaccurate after all--"You may try to change the fates but sometimes you can't." I remember that last weekend in December. You were suddenly more active on Friday, walking about the house. We were excited. Maybe you were improving? Saturday and Sunday passed spent much of those 2 days sitting on the bed, looking very tired. Then came Monday, December 31st. I was working that day, grading essays at the computer. When I finished at 4 and walked to your room, you jumped onto my lap as always, resting there for about 10 minutes. Not much changed....Then around 10:30 when mom was with you, you threw up violently. I went to the computer to find an emergency vet. By the time we got there, you were pronounced dead. I remember how I terrible I felt when you were zipped into a black bag. My poor baby who didn't like the dark....who didn't like to be alone. I had an autopsy done even though I knew it was useless....I wanted to know what killed him. It turned out to be lung and liver cancer. God only knows the agony I felt for months, at least until I had to teach the new term which started in March; I cried night after night, feeling so guilty...I felt as if I had killed you, moving to CT. Maybe if we remained in IL, you would still be alive? Our entire family loved you dearly too. You had left a definitive pawprint on their hearts such that neither wanted anything more than another shaded silver Persian; I wanted one that would be related to you. And so we did: in August, we purchased two kittens descended from your dad. I love them dearly and can sometimes trace out the resemblance between the three of you. But as charming as they are, I know they can never efface or replace you--ever so affectionate, ever so loving. You will forever be my beauty. [deleted pics because my entire photobucket was on display!]
  8. In November this year I my cat who I had owned for almost ten years died. He was ten years old and showed no sign of illness so it came as a quite a shock when I found him dead in the garden. I handled it way different than I thought I would. The first few days were hard, I cried a lot and his death hadn't sunk it yet. But after that I felt like normal and it didn't feel as hard. My issue is that when I think about him, it's as if he was never real. I remember him clearly, I just don't remember how it was to have him in my life. Does that make sense? It's like I just dreamed having him. It's so hard to feel like that because it feels bad. He was one of the most important parts in my life and now I almost can't remember how my life was with him in it. Am I supposed to feel that way? Have any of you experienced a similar feeling after losing a pet? It would be very reasuring to hear that I'm not crazy. Thank you.
  9. I dont even know how to start getting over the sudden passing of my little buddy, Samuel. He was a nearly two year old cat, so he was young. This morning I woke up and heard him whining to come into my room, so I opened the door. He usually whined to come in when the door was closed, so this wasn't out if the blue. I let him in and he was acting a bit weird. he went and laid by my daughter's crib, and suddenly started acting like he couldn't catch his breath (at first I thought it was a hairball). But then he cried out and I realized he wasn't okay. so I woke my husband and we ran to the car, to take him to the 24 hour vet, and he went rigid and passed away as we were pulling out of the drive. I am so upset and sad, I dont know what to do. I took him to the vet, and they are cremating him. I didn't have the money to pay $200 extra dollars to get his ashes back nor did I I have anywhere to bury him myself, so I didn't really get to say goodbye. no burial and I was rushing to save him, that I didn't say goodbye then. I wish I would have just let him pass away peacefully looking out the window (that's what hat he loves to do) instead of making his last moments full or rushing and stress. does that make me a bad person? I don't know. he was so young and it was so sudden. the vet said it was most likely a clot or a heart problem that most likely would have not been seen anyway. But I still feel like it was all my fault, like could I have done something to prevent this. Did he know we loved him very much, even though we've been busy recently? I'm just ranting. I'm just so sad, I can't even go into the car or our bedroom , because of it. I just wish I could know he knew he was loved. I hope he felt loved, taken care of, and happy. I don't know how to get over my grief, will it wane.
  10. My six-year-old Scottish fold who was healthy southern he died in his sleep today's ago I cannot believe he is gone he was my companion my friend my world I loved him so much I am 39 years old and for the past six years he had been There for me through thick and thin.. I raised him ever since he was very small and I have grown attached to him so much that I cannot believe he is gone my friend my companion my love my world my everything is gone I can't bear to go home to empty house anymore I just gave away his food to my neighbor who also has cats ... I am in so much pain that I can't believe this has happened my friend Michael is gone I have never felt this much pain before even 30 days ago when I lost my sister to cancer I felt horrible and I feel depressed but not nearly as deep and profound as the loss that I'm feeling right now .. I just need to hear from people I just need to talk to someone that has experience the same things I just want to know what to do there are many things that I'm hearing people tell me get that other cat that looks like him but I am not ready I cannot replace him I cannot give love another animal right now ... I miss him so much when I wake up in the morning is the worst time because I keep thinking about him he used to wake me up every morning and I use a cuddle with him every night and now empty house
  11. Almost 2 weeks ago I had to put down my cat Smokey. He was my baby, and my best friend, i had him for over 14 years. He loved to climb on my lap when I sat on the couch and sleep. He was diagnosed with a tumour in his liver only 3 months ago and just went downhill from there. He was a fighter but one day he couldn't fight anymore and became so weak and was in pain and I knew i couldn't be selfish and make him suffer just because I didn't want to say goodbye. I've had the hardest time coping since this. I cry atleast once a day, and just feel completely lost and broken without him. My heart just aches for him, To hold him, pet him or just hear his meow just one more time.
  12. My beautiful cat Shakira (Bengal) started being sick and sleeping more - then I noticed her belly looked extended- after some blood results they said she had pancreatitis but also did a ultra sound just to rule anything else out which sadly showed a mass near her intestines/bowel and that the belly extension was fluid - the vets carried out a major operation removing the mass and draining the fluid - whilst she was recovering I got the devastating news it was pancreatic cancer and that although the mass had a clear radious of cancer cells she had cancer cells in the belly fluid - I was told this is a rare but aggressive cancer and that no more treatment was available for her - they also could not give me a time span of how long she had left. I nursed her at home, it was heartbreaking because I could see she was desperately trying to get better from the big operation but I knew it was all in vein as the cancer would be taking hold. I had a little caravan holiday booked with my family so I decided to bring her with me thinking at least I can spend quailty time with her and nurse her properly - sadly a couple of days in she was going downhill, she seemed very uncomfortable and the pain killers were making her spaced out - she then stopped eating and I was having to syringe feed her against her will and then she started vomiting and she was so weak and skinny and very depressed, her fur although still beautiful was looking unkept with shaved bits still from the operation and she just could not get comfortable and her head was hanging over he water bowl - I made the hard, sad decision to have her euthanised - the vet had a feel of her tummy before he sedated her and confirmed the cancer had quickly returned and that without a doubt she was in a lot of discomfort- I know I made the right decision but I now have the horrible road of grief - I returned home from the holiday today and the house does not feel like home even though I have my two dogs - one of my dogs (Gizmo a Pomeranian) is so depressed. I can't get the thought out of my head of Shakira's eyes going dark when she was euthanised it was like the windows to the soul went dark - I just miss her terribly - she was a house cat and I work from home so she was part of my everyday life - so so sad Such a horrible cancer!!! (She lasted 3 weeks from diagnoses to euthanasia)
  13. I had to put my baby down today after I discovered she had cancer in her kidneys and was suffering quite a bit. How does one get over this large emptiness that one darling cat can leave? She was my last kiss goodnight every night and my first headbut good morning every single day for the last four years. She was the one I turned to when my life went bad, when I cried, when I felt like I had nothing else to live for, and nothing else to hope for. She helped me through my depression, she was the only reason I kept on going because I loved her so much I couldn't bear leaving her alone in this world. She was 'home'. And now I'm better and she's gone. I knew this would come one day, I knew she wasn't going to be around forever but nothing could prepare me for her leaving at just 4 years old. I wasn't ready to let her go and my darling wasn't either. Now the house is empty, her toys are idle and no longer will I feel her paws nudge me in the middle of the night. How can the only being I ever met that never tried to hurt anyone in her life have such an unexpected death? I know she can't suffer any more and no one can ever hurt my baby now but how do I fill the void that she left in me? I truly feel lost without her.
  14. Hi, I'm Nicole.. This past Saturday, my husband and I made the decision to let our cat, Scooter, go and have him cross the rainbow bridge. He was two and a half years old. At the age of one, he was diagnosed with Feline Leukemia. We went through a round of chemo (about a year of treatment) and he had responded very well to the treatment. Sadly, this past January, we noticed his pink nose turn white (a sign of Anemia) and took him in to the vets. He had dropped a lot of weight and needed a blood transfusion. The doctor (most amazing doctor / staff in the world) informed us there was a chance the blood transfusion wouldn't take and that we were way past the point of return. For a week after the transfusion, he did really well but all of a sudden, his health declined even further. Finally I broke down and could tell he was gone beyond saving. He was falling over and meowing in pain. His eyes weren't focusing and he was shaking. *sigh* I miss him a lot. Scooter was my first pet ever (I am 30 years old) and I never realized how much of an impact one little life could have on me until now. I spent the day after letting him go, crying on and off but trying to stay relaxed all day. Luckily my husband was home, so I wasn't alone. Today, my husband is back at work and I am home alone (I work from home). I miss Scooter so much and I don't know what to do. I can't focus on work or anything else. I miss feeding him, I miss giving him his pills. Scooter was so lively and would be in every room I would be in. He would wait by the door until I got home and then lay in my lap whenever I was working. I just don't know what to do right now and I feel so alone. I know letting him go was the best thing for him. I just don't know how to not cry and to keep moving forward. I just need someone to talk to I guess. I hate that I am alone right now (can't get out due to the weather). I know time heals all but I miss him so much and just don't know what to do...
  15. I don't know where to begin. She was my kittie Sweetheart. She was rescued in October of 2013. She disappeared 01/17/2016 from our yard. We live in a rural area and predators are always a possibility, but she usually stays close to home and she ALWAYS checks in during the day if she stays out more than an hour or so. She never checked in and she didn't come home. I know that cats can sometimes do this, but it's totally out of character for her. I have looked for her for hours and haven't found a trace. I haven't handled this very well, as I am sobbing most of the time and feeling all the elements of grief at once. Yes, I know she could come wandering in at any time, but that's not likely. It's the not knowing that's the worst. Almost as bad is the guilt that I had one job - keep her safe - and I failed. I miss her so badly that I ache in the pit of my stomach. I keep seeing her in my mind as she would trot toward me to pick her up and I fall apart it all over again. Although I know it's not true, I feel as though I'll be lost forever. This hurts beyond any loss I've ever had, which includes the loss of a grandson. I love you, Jazzi. 01/20/16 - This is not getting any better. I sob at the thought of not having her here when I came home from work, waiting for me. I would open the door and she'd always run to meet me. I miss he so terribly. The screaming and yelling is my frustration that I, as an admitted control freak, can do nothing about this. I have an appointment with a grief counselor tomorrow in the hopes I can make sense of my feelings of guilt and anger. I know these are a part of the grieving process, but it dominates my day. There are those who feel cats should always remain indoors because of this issue, but when I watch them play outside, catch birds, voles, and lizards, climb the trees I just can't do that to them. Ours are always in at night, and Jazzi and her "sister", Daisy, always stay in while we're gone. We have tow boys, Jeff and Tommy, who stay outside most of the tie, but come in at night. I'm rambling, but writing this is cathartic. I love you, Jazzi.
  16. Me and my girlfriend adopted this little, gray cat around two months ago, she was like 1 months old at the time and had the biggest eyes I had ever seen in a cat before. Little Mila lived with me, was always around me since I work at home, and followed me everywhere, especially every morning because she loved some bread and milk, and I just couldn't deny it. Four days ago, Mila had this horrible accident while chasing a mouse, hit her head somewhere and started bleeding a lot, her eyes were completely lost, was not able to move and was having trouble breathing; we reacted fast and took her down to a vet in like 10 minutes, where we were told her chances of surviving the hit were minimal but still possible, and had to decide to either put her to sleep or see if she could make it through the night on pain meds and anti-inflammatory meds, which I chose. We left her there on observation during the night and were later told that one of her eyes had reacted and there were chances of the other eye reacting as well. At 7am we were told that she didn't make it, and picked her up and buried her that same day. I am now having trouble staying calm in my own bedroom since it feels so empty now, and can't stop watching her pictures without bursting to tears, it took her 2 months to change everything in my life, in our routines and now I don't know how to get trough this, she was so different to other cats I've had
  17. My best friend died today. He was a 16 year old Tuxedo cat, who was just full of life, and exuded joy. I am not a young man, soon to retire, and Trace was going to be my retirement buddy. Many a nights we spent on my Lay Z boy, hanging out, watching tv,my pal contently purring as I would read the latest crime novel or do a crossword puzzle. I got Trace after 911. He kept my other cat Cyrus company for a few years before Cyrus had to be put to sleep from a urinary disease. Trace would always cry when I left for work and enthusiastically meet me crying at my door. On my hour drive home from work, however grueling my day was I could always depend on him to warmly be there for me unconditionally. When my mother and father passed, he was my sounding board, and when my lady friend died a horrible death, he kept me company and gave me the courage to go on. A few years ago I got a diagnosis that was devastating but he helped me through the scary times, other friends passing, job stress, and horrible anxiety. I loved this little guy. About a month ago, he started limping and the vet said it was just arthritis, and put him on a steroid. A week later he started not eating and right about the same time his 19 pounds seemed to be quickly falling away. I took him to the vet and his blood work was good- no chronic anything diabetes, dental issues, etc, and was given an antibiotic. But he appeared like eating was painful for him and he would curl his head around, have trouble keeping food in him mouth and had little or no appetite. A couple more vet trips occurred, shots, appetite stimulants, but he continued to struggle. He then started to cry non stop this past weekend, and I held him most of Saturday and Sunday. He seemed to make an odd sound like metal connecting to metal when he was eating. I would massage his gums, and he would let me. He weighed 14 pounds, had lost about 5 I prayed to God that he would get better and somehow I knew during this whole month that something was really wrong with my boy, On Sunday night, he stopped crying, and was very quiet and content it appeared. About 3:30 in the morning he jumped on my bed, and snuggled up with me like he had done before, and I noticed when I got up for a bathroom run that he had eaten. I was sure God had answered my prayer. He only stayed a few minutes loving me and then left the room When I got up at 6:30, he was in bad shape, looked confused, would not eat a thing, crying constantly. I called the vet and he said even though they did not know what was really wrong with him, that he was 16 years and he was not going to get that much better, and that putting him down would be compassionate. I went to the vet and they very sweetly euthanized him in my arms, I couldn't bear to see my friend suffer in this life. I have had many cats over the years and been through this before. But for some reason, this time my heart feels like it is broken. It has only been 1 day, but I cannot stop crying. I went to work after he passed and I cried all day in my cubicle and tonight my apartment feels so lonely. I think he rebounded for those hours to tell me it was ok and to tell me he loved me. But my heart hurts. I never thought a cat could bring me such grief, and also such joy. I want to remember the good times, but the pain is bad and I feel so alone without my buddy.
  18. I'm here to find people who understand my grieving I moved 1200 miles away from everyone I was familiar with 6 months ago. On February 12th 2015 I made the decision to put my 7 year old cat shadow down at the vet while on a three way call with my mom and aunt. Over 2 weeks he became very ill We were hoping it was a virus but the antibotics didn't work and it came down to kidney failure. I have never been through this before Especially not alone It was the hardest decision of my life It's been four days and I still feel him everywhere I've seen so many signs of him one being very confusing to me which I'll share now I came into my room Saturday night and shadows old tag from my moms house was laying on my floor in front of my nightstand... Earlier I found it and accidentally dropped it BEHIND my nightstand trying to put it on my cork board but then my roommates stepmom showed up when I was trying to get it and she distracted me and I forgot about it but when I came home that night it was laying in front of my nightstand the stand would have had to be pulled out to retrieve it. I feel it was him who found it for me and left me to find it again... It made my head spin and I lost control of my tears I've made a photo album of him that Ive been carrying everywhere with me I find comfort in it It's only been 4 days and it feels like the pain is never going to go away I still see him in the backyard chasing bugs I still look for him upon waking I still feel him nearly trip me while making my coffee in the kitchen He's everywhere to me He was the only familiar thing I had when I packed up my life and moved from Ohio to florida My heart is in shambles He was my best friend
  19. Hi everyone. My name is Alfie. Yesterday, coming home from my 18th birthday party, We say my cat dead on the road metres from my house. His name was Hector, he was only 4. A Siamese beautiful boy. I already suffer from BPD (borderline personality) and GAD (generalised anxiety disorder). This was just too much. 3 diazipams later I still feel so empty, I can't function and I'm sure with time I'll be okay, but right now I just am still in shock, I can't believe it. I don't know what to do with myself. He was my coping mechanism, a little angel, he was micheious and adorable and so perfect. I am at a loss for words. My thanks in advance.
  20. I lost my beloved cat of 19 years on November 6, 2013, and not a day has gone by that I haven't missed her. My husband and kids agreed with me that one day we would get another cat, but they said they would take their cue from me as to when, since Maven was primarily my cat. (I had already had her for 10 years when I married my husband.) Very easily, we found Auggie and we knew we wanted him. It only took a couple of hours looking at to decide which cats to inquire about, and after a couple of dead ends I spoke to Auggie's foster mom. My son and daughter went with me to meet him the same day and after a brief meeting and discussion with the foster mom, I signed the papers. Auggie was everything the foster mom told us he would be: he has an extra loud purr, loves to head butt, will wrap his paws around your neck when you're holding him. Two days later, he is ours. He is adjusting extremely well; the introduction to our dog even went smoothly. The problem is, I see Maven everywhere and I am right back to the mess I was for weeks right after she died. Right after Maven was euthanized my husband and I heard the song "Angel" by Sarah McLachlan on the radio and now that song always makes me think of Maven. Well, last night it just started playing on some website the kids were looking at. Then I started feeling guilty because it's been a long time since I lit a virtual candle on the pet crematorium's website, while there is another cat who died the same month as Maven and that owner is still posting weekly. And I continuously worry about Auggie: what if he gets out and disappears? What if he gets sick and we have to go through another pet loss when we're least prepared? I am questioning whether I waited long enough to get another cat, but I just felt that I didn't want the house to be without a cat any longer.
  21. My cat has always been finicky about eating. She has always been very thin, and had an obsession with water. If I was bathing, brushing my teeth, getting a glass of water, there she would be asking to get a drink with me. Last week I started to notice that she wasn't looking great. It didn't raise too many eyebrows because she was still doing all of her normal things, hanging out with me, bathing, drinking, messing with our other cat. On Friday I came home and noticed that she was actively different. She was slower to move around, and out right refused to eat. I worried about her, but I went to the store to find all of her favorite foods so I could get her to try to eat something. The only thing she would eat was a few tablespoons of pureed pumpkin and a she would only drink if I let her drink out of the cap of a water bottle. Saturday she was noticeably bad. She wouldn't eat or drink at all and she started to hide under the bed. I decided to take her to the vet. I was expecting to hear that she had diabetes or cancer. I was expecting to get an astronomical bill, but to get to take my little girl home. She was only 10 years old. I was expecting to have her in my life for the 7-10 years. The prognosis was grim. She had kidney disease. Her temperature was low. She had kidney stones in both kidneys. Her mucus membranes were completely dried up. Expecting the vet to get to work on saving her, instead he suggested that we put her down. I was in complete shock. He brought her back to me to spend time with her before he put her to sleep. She was having a hard time moving around, but she was walking, and sniffing. She looked like she wanted to leave. She looked haggared and thin and sick. I petted her, held her. She sat down and started to purr. Then the Dr. came in. She was cradled in my arms. He gave her the first shot and she instantly fell over in my arms. He gave her the second shot and walked out of the room. I was devestated. The thing I am having the most difficult time dealing with is the feeling that I didn't do enough to save her. She was only 10 years old. Should I have asked him to do everything possible to save her? Did I ask enough questions? If I would have waiting to take her to my normal vet on Monday, would she have had another suggestion? I have so much guilt now in thinking back to that day. She was still walking. She was still purring. She looked terrible, but I just feel like I could have proded to get the vet to try anything else to help her. I have another cat who has been near death 4 times now. I can't understand how one cat can bounce back from the brink of death 4 times and the other cat gets sick one time and now she is gone. Ren was my best friend. We did everything together. She would sit on the edge of the bathtub while I bathed. She would sit and watch me brush my teeth in the morning. She would follow me from room to room. She would sleep on my hip every night. She would stretch up her arms to me as if to say, "I want held mama," and I would pick her up as she stretched her long back legs, and then she would rest in my bosom until she fell asleep. When she heard the door open, she would run out from under the bed to meet me. I keep hoping I will catch a glimpse of her spirit, or feel her try to rest on my hip again. I cry myself to sleep every night. When I get home and she's not there I bawl. My other cat has been great. When he hears me crying he comes to check on my. It's very sweet, but it's not the same. I can't get over the loss of my best friend. I need to know I did the right thing, but I just can't get over the guilt of feeling like I didn't do enough to save her life.
  22. Hi, my name's Ady, About 11 1/2 years ago, my cat Charlie's only remaining kitten Hope was knocked down and put down at an animal hospital before I could get to her. She was a gorgeous cat and only six months old. I got a rescue cat to take the place of Hope and after a week or so, she got on fine with Charlie. They'd even cuddle up together sometimes! Well, a few months ago, Sophie began to overgroom herself, then about three weeks ago, she started climbing onto my lap about 12 times a day (she'd normally do this about twice a day.) She was also coughing up hair and mucus, but I just put this down to her overgrooming. Just under three weeks ago, she began weeing on my bed (I thought it was the visiting stray cat doing it.) She did this three times. The next time, she wee'd on some bedding on my bedroom floor, just as I was about to go to sleep. I got really angry with her and picked her up by the scruff of the neck and shouted at her. She always went outside to do stuff, even in really cold and snowy weather. I now cry at how I did that to her. A few days later, she wee'd right in front of me over loads of my clothes on the floor and then I realised she was very ill. That night she curled up at the top of the stairs and didn't move or go outside for three days. She barely ate anything and didn't even drink much. By last Thursday, after three visits to the vets over the past two weeks, and a final diagnosis that she had kidney failure, she was very weak and looked like she was in discomfort and pain. She wouldn't eat or drink anything, except some natural yoghurt off my finger. That evening I decided she had to be put down within two days, so on Friday I got her put down at the PDSA in Wolverhampton. The thing is, I live alone, suffer from Bi-Polar Disorder, am at home most of the time (unemployed) and my cats are like children to me. I miss her little ways so much. Charlie also wonders where she is. I am under so much stress and I am crying so much and having nightmares. Hardly anyone understands what I am going through and very few offer any comfort and sympathy, let alone empathy. She's the younger black and white tuxedo cat in the photo below...
  23. 2013 has not been my year. It started going badly in late Spring, when I started experiencing some serious conflict with my partner of 12 years. The reasons are extremely complicated, but the end result was that she stopped spending time on our relationship and gave her energy elsewhere, so we were essentially living in the same house, but not interacting or being loving. Around the same time, my grandfather, who was 94, began a slow decline into death. We were extremely close (I was basically his caretaker for a year), and it was very hard to see a man who was so able-bodied decline the way he did. He died on July 18th, and although it was as peaceful as could be, it felt like I had lost the only person who ever loved me just as I was, with no conditions. Unfortunately, due to the ongoing issues with my partner, I wasn't really able to get the support I needed in grieving, and was again left to process fairly alone. Add onto that some physical health issues (a severe knee sprain/muscle tear that required I use a cane or walker for 2 months, and a 5 year old spinal injury that flared up dramatically), a history of depressive episodes and anxiety (which flared again shortly after the marital problems started), a high stress job, and a 17 month old baby boy, and you can imagine that I already wasn't in a good place. Then, on Sept 18, the universe decided to give me way more than I could handle. I was away on business, and received a call from a veterinary hospital in my town. He told me that there had been a fire at my house, that he had found my phone number via my dog's microchip, and that my cat, Pepper, who I'd had ever since I got my first apartment, had died of smoke inhalation. My dog, Ellie, was in critical condition, but they were trying to give her fluids and pain medication. I immediately cancelled the rest of my trip and got in a car to drive to the airport. I called and checked in with the vet several times, and Ellie's condition was improving. They said she was up and walking around, and doing much better than when she was brought in. I called right before my LA to Sacramento flight took off, and he told me her condition was "fair to good". By the time I landed, she had died, from a combination of smoke inhalation damage and burns. Compounding the grief for my beloved animals, our local newspaper made the decision to publish photos of them in their last moments, when they were burned and being treated by firefighters. Despite our requests, they refused to take them down. I will never get that image out of my head. As for the fire, it gutted our house and destroyed 95% of our belongings. The things we could salvage were mostly in the garage, so i have plenty of tools, but no housewares, kitchen things, clothing, etc. That evening, I took a shower (we were staying with friends) and had to borrow clothes to wear to bed. The fire started outside while neither of us were home, and the cause is still "undetermined after investigation". We will never know what caused it, only that something sparked, hit our eaves, ignited the attic, then hit a gas line and blew dramatically. It will likely be a year or more before we are back in it. We are currently in a rental house, with rental furniture, and while it's fine, it just doesn't feel like home. My current problem is that I need support. My wife is also going through the same grieving process, and she still is focusing a lot of her energy elsewhere, so she has essentially notified me that she can't support me, hold me while I cry, etc. She believes, at a very deep level, that the amount of grief I'm experiencing or the way I am grieving (I probably average 45 min to an hour of crying a day, while being totally functional, working full time, helping take care of a 17 month old etc), is wrong and excessive. I do have a pair of very close friends, but their reaction seems to be much the same..."I can't deal with you crying, come back when you're not upset anymore and we can hang out". This, of course, compounds the sadness, because now I'm not just grieving, I'm lonely. It feels like all of the foundations on which I built my life have disappeared all at once...the security of my marriage, my grandfather, my home, and my wonderful animal family members, who would always listen to me cry if no one else was willing. Does anyone have any outside sources of support that they use? I am feeling extremely alone, and I'd love to make friends here to talk through this's hard not to have anyone I can talk to that will take the time to listen. Thank you for reading (this was a novel) and I look forward to meeting you soon.