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Found 38 results

  1. Sick with grief and guilt

    We just lost our wonderful sweet 15 year old cat a couple days ago and it was physically traumatic for him and totally horrific. The emergency vet said it was an organophosphate poison. My vision of his last moments were not this. Maybe being in vet office, calm and in control and getting time to say goodbye (as was the case with my other cats years ago.) Instead, this was a nightmare and from the time I found him to his death was about 2 hours. We had sprayed Raid on a couple spiders the previous night in the basement but the vet said that was not it. He wasn't sure but he says it could have been days earlier. I am totally paranoid now. I really have not eaten or slept much. I am full of guilt since I am not sure exactly what happened so I am barely coping. We are renting a vacation home so I don't know what he might have gotten into. Can't find anything. Maybe it was a poisonous bug? No clue. He had also lost a lot of weight the last couple months and was hiding a lot so I know he was sick but this was way beyond anything unless it was total organ failure all at once. I don't know. I have waves of fear and anxiety and overwhelm. I can't believe I let this happen. The whole thing is so traumatic I have not even been able to have normal sadness.
  2. horrible guilt and shame

    Hello,I'm new here. A month ago I noticed that my cat had lost her appetite.I took her to my vet and she examined my cat,finding nothing wrong.She said it was probably because of the heat wave.Then my vet left for vacation.My cat continued not eating and I stupidly assumed it was still because of the heat.I waited too long.By then she looked sick and I found a vet clinic.I took my cat there.They found she had FIP, which is a fatal virus.They sent me home because there "it was a very sick cat and they could do nothing for her" except for an antibiotic injection I was shocked.Since then I had been trying to save her life with antibiotics, medicine and syringe feeding.I didn't leave her side,day or night,showing her all the love I could. For a while she seemed to be getting a little better,but then she got worse. My vet returned and took her for intravenous feeding and serum. My agony grew as I saw her not getting better but I was still hoping and praying for a miracle..I took her home again for a few days so she could be with us ,in her familiar environment.I kept her home for a couple of days and then I returned her to the vet's to drain the fluid from her little belly.I visited her twice a day there, stroking her,kissing her ,telling her how much I loved her. Last time I saw her it was Saturday noon.The vet's is closed for visits on Sat.evening and Sundays.Monday morning when I went to visit her they told me she had passed during the night. I cannot eat,cannot sleep,cannot function.I cry all the time.I miss her so much.I know getting her to the vet clinic earlier would not have changed the outcome,she was doomed,but I feel I neglected her and betrayed her by my stupidity and laziness.I hope she has forgiven me but I cannot forgive myself.
  3. Hello, I don’t really know how to begin, or what to say. I’ve never felt anything like this, in my life, and I am a sensitive and emotional person, in the first place. This pain is almost immeasurable, it feels surreal. Last Tuesday, my soul mate died, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I absolutely hate myself, the guilt is killing me, and I just wish that I could be with her, again, and spend eternity with her, because the thought of death with her is so much better than the thought of living without her. Cleo was 19 when she died. She lived a long life, filled with love. She was the most beautiful, loving, and sensitive cat, I have ever known. She was perfect, and unique, and all her quirks that irritated others, just made me love her all the more. She was basically a self-imposed house cat. Despite constant access to the outdoors, she preferred to go out only with human company. Mostly mine. She was a family cat, but everyone knew that mine and Cleo’s love was like no other. I was her favourite, and she is mine, above all others. We had a bond and connection to each other, that I cannot even begin to think of describing with words, alone. It was just.. she was, and is, part of me. We understood each other. I didn’t look at her as a cat; she was Cleo. A beautiful, gorgeous, loving, radiant, hilarious, adorable, chubby, sensitive, warm spirit, that changed my life. I could never bring myself to fully contemplate what would happen when she died, but I never imagined that I wouldn’t be there for her. Last December, I moved to Denmark to be with my Danish boyfriend, since, fiancé. With Cleo’s advancing age in mind, her well-managed chronic kidney disease, and her nervous and sensitive disposition, particularly to change, it would have been cruel to ask her to endure any kind of relocation, let alone to Denmark. From apparent stress, she once lost all the fur on her bottom half, making it appear as though she’d forgotten to put on her trousers, which was equally the most adorable and upsetting thing to see. She was just so beautifully sensitive. I wasn’t going to put her through any kind of upset, if at all possible. She would be more comfortable, secure, and safe within the walls and garden of her lifelong home, with my parents to look after her. Every day, I carried a sense of guilt that I had left her behind. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. She was, and is, my one love, my light, my soul mate. There were nights where my fiancé had to rock me like a baby, as I sobbed desperately in his arms, over the distance I had created between Cleo and I. I just wanted to be with her, for her to be with me, for me to be with her. It broke my heart, every day. I would gaze lovingly at the framed photo I have of her, I would speak to her on FaceTime when contacting my parents, but it just wasn’t enough. I had seen her for three weeks in April, and for one week in the middle of August, and each time, it was increasingly impossible to leave her. Yet, leave I did. Last Tuesday, I received a FaceTime call from my Dad. It was odd that the call came through, considering my iPad was locked and set to 'do not disturb'. In some way, I feel like it was Cleo and our love that allowed the call to come through. Furthermore, the day before, I had heard a cat meow outside the doors to the flats. It wasn’t Cleo’s meow, but it was a meow. I looked outside, and there was nothing there. I wonder if, in some way, this, too, was a sign. The call was to carry the news I never wished or hoped to hear. The darkest day in my life had arrived. She was fading rapidly, she could no longer move the back half of her body, she could not and would not eat or drink, despite efforts to hydrate her using a syringe, she just could not do it. My heart broke irreparably in that very second. I am so grateful to my parents for including me as much as they physically could, for giving me the chance to say goodbye in the only way possible, given the circumstances. They warned me that she was to be taken to the vets, and that it was highly likely she would not come home, alive. I mustered up everything within me to whistle her favourite songs. She was always so responsive to whistling, and she was a Disney girl at heart. In the last couple of years, as her health changed, she took little interest in these songs. However, as I sat there, tears streaming, breath unsteady, I was able to give my rendition of 'Part of Your World'. She had been unresponsive for hours, and yet.. she was trying to lift up her head.. the twinkle of recognition palpable, despite her being near lifeless. My Dad couldn’t believe it. That moment means the absolute universe, to me. Next, I tried 'Colors of the Wind', but my sobs made it near impossible. It was the greatest joy to be able to give her that gift, and for her to know it was from me. I sent all my love to her, I spoke to her in loving, yet undeniably heartbroken, tones, I said everything I could think to say, all the verbal tokens of love that I had always said. But it just wasn’t enough. I asked my Dad to stroke her as I said them, to give her the kiss that I would have given, though I would not have been able to stop kissing her. I even tried to stroke the screen, as if she would feel my fingers on her skin. At one point, she was miraculously able to lift herself up to see the screen, and I have never seen anything like it, in my life. It absolutely shatters my whole existence. It is the most beautiful and heart wrenching thing, I have ever seen. That face.., she looked so different in that moment, I have never seen her look like that, before, those eyes... so large, so close to death, and so full of life and love. It’s too much. It’s too beautiful. Given the circumstances, and with eternal thanks to my parents, I did all that I could. But it wasn’t enough. I will never get to hear her, see her, smell her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, lie with her, whistle for her, feel her love and envelope her in mine, ever again.. . I couldn’t hold her paw, as my dad did for me, as she died, I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I will never be with her, again, not on earth, and it is breaking me. I am completely overcome with grief, and guilt. The guilt is corroding my heart, I have a constant physical pain. I feel as though I left her, abandoned her... that she must have hated me, she can’t have known why I wasn’t there. All she knows is that I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. I absolutely despise myself. I honestly feel like the worst human being who has ever lived. I should have never moved to Denmark, I should have waited until she had gone, because I knew she was old, and I knew she had an illness. I am disgusting. I keep begging her to forgive me, but I know I don’t deserve it. I keep saying sorry, I keep hoping she will show me, in some way, that she is okay. In the early hours of Monday morning, I felt a warmth between my legs as I lay cross-legged, and as I sat up, I felt as though I was able to pick up this warmth, and cradle it. I am almost convinced it was my mind trying to create some sort of comfort, but there is part of me that feels as though it was my Cleo, and just in case it was, I spoke to her. I said everything I wanted to say, and afterwards, I felt a coolness pass over my face. I noticed a shift in me, in that moment, which brought me some relief. But since then, I have completely relapsed into a suicidal state. I have panic attacks from the grief, and when I’m not crying, I just exist in a black hole of misery. I will never be able to forgive myself or live with myself for leaving my baby. It has been especially difficult, as my fiancé is currently working offshore, so I have had to experience this, alone. He has been amazing, through Skype calls, and he has written me the most beautiful words to try and help me see things in a different way. I couldn’t have asked for more support. My parents, who can sometimes be emotionally distant, have been wonderful, and have, obviously, been greatly touched by her death, also. I am doing as much research as I can, I have created online photo albums, made videos from the photos, I listen to her favourite song, I have gathered a few momentos to comfort myself as I try to sleep. Luckily, I have a blanket with me that she slept on, many times, which I have been holding at night. My fiancé made the suggestion that we hold a memorial when he is back, and find a lovely spot to place some memories. I am planning on framing more photos, and painting a picture of her, as I have in the past, and getting some items printed using photos of her, such as a cushion cover, and iPad case. Also, I am planning to crochet a little toy to represent her. When I spoke to Cleo for the last time, I made suggestions of items we could keep with her, such as a bib I had crocheted for her as a little joke, which she surprisingly enjoyed, a kitchen sponge, as she used to frequently 'murder' them, and call to let us know what a vicious killer she was, an Autumn leaf, as she used to mercilessly kill these, too. Some daisies, as we used to play and make chains with them, a tea bag, as she used to love finishing off a cup of tea using her paw, and other little knickknacks that speak of her personality, and our time together. I feel like all these things should add up to some way of coping, but I cannot cope. The guilt is killing me. I need to somehow atone for my disgraceful behaviour. I have begun looking at cat rescue centres. We are planning to move to a flat that allows pets, and, knowing that I will be able to give an adult cat with a hard life a home and the love it deserves, does help, somewhat. But my Cleo. I left her, and I never wanted to, I never intended to. Yet, I did. I truly am a monster, I don’t know how to live with this feeling. I would infinitely rather be with her than live without her. I apologise for the essay I’ve written.. I doubt many people will want to read it.. but for those of you that do, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and wish you all the best on your own journeys to recovery after losing our best friends and soul mates.
  4. Grieving over my fur baby

    Hi everyone, on November 7th i lost my little fur angel, Tumbles and devastated is not even the word to describe. I’m crying every day and night. I had him for 8 years and he has brought so much joy into my home. I would have never imagined the pain would be so hard but thinking about the fact that I will never get to see him or hold him again is killing me. He was truly my baby and I feel so lost without him. It really kills me when people tell me to just get another cat because I can’t possibly imagine replacing someone I loved so much. I currently have another cat and seeing him walk around the house meowing hurts me so much. I have a boyfriend, friends and family that I have been talking to but i feel like I’m crazy if I keep bringing it up, this is just one of the hardest pains I’ve ever endured. I’m on this forum in hopes of speaking to others who know this pain and can tell me what they have done to help heal. :/
  5. Feeling guilt

    I lost my cat, Tumbles on November 7th 2017. It will be one week tomorrow. Now that the shock has settled in, I am starting to feel guilt. For quite some time. Tumbles would throw up every now and then. I worried, but my boyfriend, who also has cats of his own, assured me he probably ate too quick or maybe change his food bc he might not like it. So I relaxed a little, and told myself if he showed other signs I will take him to the vet. Well, he didn’t. But I started to smell something weird in my bedroom. I cleaned, mopped, and eventually found cat poop and assumed maybe one of my kitties ( I have two) accidentally brought it in with them from the litter box bc it’s right outside my room. August 2017 however, I was getting ready for a wedding, and I saw Tumbles poop in my room. Because I was anxious about running late, I freaked out, but later of course hugged him to show I wasn’t mad. It was then that month that I took him to the vet only to realize he had Jaudice. the vet prescribed medication, steroids and assured us it’s possible he could be cured. But he did end up passing away last week. i tried everything I could, but I feel guilty for not helping him sooner. I did everything, spend so much money in the end and was by his side constantly, I’m not just regretting what I didn’t do :/
  6. Zeus, my 2½ year old ragdoll has been diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (thickening of her heart). Her brother (Thor) from the same litter passed away when he was only 7 months old, and at the time we didn't know what caused the fluid build up in his chest. But after seeing Zeus go through so much I'm sure it was the same thing. Thor was just starting the diuretics to drain the fluid build up when he got stressed, panicked and died while the vets tried CPR. It was horribly traumatic. Now I'm faced with this same awful disease, and no knowing when it will flare up again. Zeus is home with me on her first of many medications that will not save her, after already experiencing congestive heart failure. Medications will not stop or even necessarily slow this disease, they will simply "manage the symptoms". So is it worth putting her through the stress of medication, vet visits and monitoring? Any day she could experience a blood clot, or more fluid building up in her chest. The logical part of my mind is saying don't risk letting her suffer, put her down so she can be at peace and out of harms way. Its the humane thing to do. But that feels so much like giving up! I want to fight this and fix her, shes still so young, shes too young to say goodbye to. She was the only reason I smiled after losing Thor. She made me laugh with her games, and kept me company. I have another cat besides her(Hades), who I'm sure will make me laugh like any other day and help me through this the way Zeus did. But that doesn't make this decision any easier. Hades I originally got as a companion for Zeus while I was at work. Who will Hades have when Zeus is gone? She is a funny cat with a lovely temperament, and she loves to play tag with Hades. But now all she does is sleep, or lay down watching the world go by. Hades hisses at her every time they get too close when just a week ago they would groom each other. She played with a toy today, but even that was a lazy attempt lasting only a few moments. She is not in pain(that I know of), and outwardly she seems like a sluggish version of herself. But inside she is very sick, and will get worse. She can make it around the apartment easy enough, just requires more time to get from point A to point B. She eats, though not as much as she should. She may bounce back enough with medication to be able to play and jump again, but her tolerance will be very low. What kind of life is that? I know choosing euthanasia is the humane choice for her, but I'm struggling so much with the guilt. Its so unfair for such a beautiful little soul to go through this, especially so young. And to choose the day her life will end seems so wrong! Everyone knows how much a pet's world revolves around its owner, but our world revolves around our pets just as much. My world is being thrown off its axis and I don't know how to keep going.
  7. 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!
  8. I Think My Cat is Dead

    Okay so... my cat has always had a habit of sneaking off to some part of the house and not coming back out for several days (except to eat). So when it happened this time around, I didn't think anything of it. My cat seemed to be in perfectly good health. A bit small and skinny, but very energetic and nothing out of the norm. It wasn't until yesterday (5 days since I had last seen her) that I began to notice an awful smell coming from a part of the house that she would hang out in the most. I have smelt a lot of dead things in my life and knew right away what I was smelling. The problem however, is that the part of the house she liked the most... is a mess. A collection of 3-4 rooms filled with junk that hasn't been touched in nearly two decades. I have already spent nearly 6 hours digging through the junk and have been unable to locate a body. I did, however, find the hole that a possum had used 2 months before to get into the house (long since dealt with). I never had her spayed (ik, big mistake) and our house is surrounded lately by dozens of cats belonging to our neighbours. Now, I thought... well if a possum 3 times her size was able to squeeze through a hole... she would surely have no problem doing the same. But then reality comes back and I realize that there is really only one thing that smell could be. I hate the thought of her just rotting away under a heap of junk. But the rooms in question would take me at least a week if not longer to completely clear. And having checked where the smell is strongest, I couldn't find a body. Also worth noting that the smell isn't as strong as I think it should be. You can't smell it throughout the entire area. Take 4-5 steps in one direction and it's gone. At this point, I am at a loss for what to do. So was hoping I could get some advice here. EDIT: Also should mention I am rather old. Just turned 70 a few months ago and have arthritis in my knees. So my ability to search for her is limited and I pose a risk of hurting myself in the process.
  9. My little girl is gone

    Thank you so much to anyone who comments or even reads my story. I have never been so hopeless and I appreciate anyone reading this for taking time out of their day to help me cope with my loss. I am 16 years old and I've owned my cat since 4th grade. She was only 7 years old when she went missing a couple days ago. She was my rock, my support, my happiness and one of my few reasons for living. Even though it's more than likely that she is gone forever, I can't seem to accept it and I'm still praying that my baby will come home. To give some background, I was abused by a neighbor when I was little and I have only told my parents a few months ago and have been trying to deal with it since. It has given me PTSD and a social disorder and I wish I was able to trust people. I never wanted to live as someone who was abused and whenever I would start crying and/or panic when the memories resurfaced my kitty would comfort me like no other, jumping up on my bed with a loud purr and bumping her face into mine. She was there for me when my parents were too stressed to help me with what I was going through. We went away from home for 4 days recently while my mom's friend took care of the cat, and she reportedly hid under my parents' bed whenever my mom's friend came inside to feed her. She had gotten a little bit thinner before we left but it was nothing worth being concerned over. When we came home she was acting fairly normal but there was vomit in my room. I didn't think much of it because she only vomits when she eats too fast or has clumps of hair in her stomach and then she's completely fine. Later she was desperately howling to get outside after having been inside for 4 days. I know people will disagree with letting cats outside but because of her ear tufts, extra toes, strong hunting instinct and desire to be outdoors, the shelter we adopted her from believes that our cat is part lynx. A strict indoor life would have made her miserable. We felt sorry for her and let her outside, knowing she would come back by 9 or 10pm like she always does. We all took turns looking for her for hours but couldn't find her anywhere and assumed she wanted to be left alone for the night. We still couldn't find her the following morning but we saw cat pee behind the couch in the living room. It was dark with blood and no one knew how long it had been there. We immediately knew that she may have been too sick to get away from predators like she always does and that she may have been taken away by something. We called her outside, shook her food, looked in our front and back yard and all around the neighborhood, and put up posters. Each minute that has passed without her has made my heart heavier and I feel like I'm somehow to blame, that I should have known she was too sick to be left alone outside. I haven't stopped crying and I would do anything to have her back. Even just typing this whole thing out has lifted some of the pain but it's still very present. I would be beyond appreciative if someone saw this and gave me some assuring words during this tough time in my life.
  10. My beautiful cat ❤

    Hi, I just discovered this website. I don't know what I'm really looking for and I don't know how it really works on here but I just need to write it somewhere. Im currently at work, on my lunch break, crying like there's no tomorrow. My mom called me 3 days ago telling me they took an appointment to euthanize my beloved cat. She's my 16 years old cat. I've had her since I was 5 years old, we grew old together and she was always there when no one else was. She wont pee in her litter anymore, she barely eats (she licks it but wont eat it) and she doesnt like going out anymore or sleeping in my bed. Its been like this for quite a while. My dad is in the army and so we moved every 2-3 years. Its hard making new friends and having good people to talk to. She was aways there waiting for me when I came back home, when I had no one to talk to she was just there staring at me (yes I did talk to my cat). When I was feeling sad and cried in my bed, she'd come to me and bite my cheeks to comfort me. She always did that thing. She used to turn on her back which I called it the "Twist and Shout"... anyway... she's schedule for tonight at 6pm and I can't be there with her since im away because of college. I cant stand the fact that I wont be near her on her dying table. Ive never lost anyone in my life before and this is really affecting me. I talked to my entourage and they seem to think that I overreact. For them its "only a cat". They caught me crying and Im pretty sure they think im being childish. I just cant help it. I feel guilty for putting her down and I cant know for sure if its what she really want or if we are selfish for letting her go. Did we try everything? I feel like we didnt... I dont know how I'll take it when she'll really be gone... For anyone who actually read this, thank you. Just writinf it helped a little...
  11. I really need some help from someone. People keep saying its just a cat, but he really wasn't. He was all I had when times were rough. He made me smile when I had no one. He loved me so much and I loved him beyond words. I can't even focus as tears stream down my face as I type this, holding on to the towel that we wrapped his sweet little body in, having trouble letting go. I've become so desperate for answers or even just a little bit of support I turn to this site. On Saturday, May 6, 2017 my precious little boy Tommy died in my arms. He was only 5.5 years old. At age 2, he was diagnosed with anemia and kidney disease, very rare for such a young guy. I spent thousands from my savings to do whatever I could for the little guy, running all these tests, medications, regular check-ups, etc. At 2 years he dropped down to 4 pounds and vets didn't think he would make it, even suggesting I put him down. That wasn't an option for me. With the prednisolone and gentle force feeding, i brought my cat back to normal weight and he was an active little guy again causing mischief and "hunting" his toys all the time. I'd wake up in the middle of the night with his toys all over me and all in his water bowl. He was such a funny guy. So when my vet stopped paying much attention once Tommy started feeling better, I didn't like that so January 2017 I switched to a new vet. The new vet had great ratings online so I trusted it. And I still don't know for sure if he did anything wrong, but my mind keeps wondering. He checked tommy's blood work and it read that he was at stage 3 kidney disease and his anemia was severe. Tommy was also showing signs of cancer. Tommy was now 5 years old. So the vet upped the dose to 2 pills a day to see how he responded. Tommy was fine until one week ago it all changed. He was getting weaker but my other cat had a lump on her stomach so I decided to take her in first last weekend and then Tommy this weekend (splitting up the finances as I couldn't afford it all at once). I wish I didn't do that and the regret is killing me to the point where I can't function anymore. I ended up taking Tommy in this last Friday because he was very weak. Tommy has lost a bit of weight but nothing significant like the first time. Vet noticed he was weak right away and wanted to run another blood test to see where he was at. Right after they took the blood, Tommy could barely move off the vet floor. His whole body and his head just laid flat on the floor with not an ounce of energy. Vet pulled out a new medication and said that this was the final resort. He orally administered Atopica for cats and said that if he responds in a week this could make him live a long life. But it was too late. I took Tommy home and his mouth was still all crusty from the medication, like it was dehydrating him or something. Couldn't swallow properly. He seemed so much weaker than when I took him in that morning. I don't know if it's because they withdrew his last bit of blood that was keeping him alive (being anemic) or it was the new medication or it was simply too late. I gave him as much water as I could to try and help him. Tommy had this obsession with ice cubes. So I took an ice cube and dropped it in his water. He perked up a little bit and slowly walked over to his water bowl to take a drink. My heart broke because he was trying to drink but he just couldn't, he was so weak. Then about 10 minutes later I pulled out treats and he got a little excited and came over. He tried so hard to pick up the treat but he just couldn't. I even broke it in half to help him...he'd pick it up and it'd just fall out of his mouth. I started crying, like I am right now, because it really did break my heart. My fiance and I kept close watch on him Friday night. We let him do all the things he wanted to do. He wanted to step out on the balcony, we let him. He just lied there and smelt the fresh air, then slowly walked in when he was finished. He wanted to walk down the hallway of the apartment, and we let him. We just let him walk, and he walked about 10 meters until he dropped. We pet him slowly and just stayed with him in the hallway. (Tommy loved being in the hallway...when we'd come home he'd be waiting at the door to go there. And once he hit the hallway he sit on the carpeted floor and just purr like crazy. Some days we just him stay out there as long as he wanted, it made him so happy). But that night we noticed Tommy couldn't walk back from his hallway mission. I picked him up and he was like jello, bringing him back inside. My fiance and I were having a personal argument from nights before, so I decided to sleep in the living room and he slept in the bedroom. I regret going to bed so easily that night at 11pm knowing my cat was like this. I should've stayed up with him. That night at 1am I woke up to use the bathroom and Tommy was sitting on the bathroom floor. I can't remember if I pet him or not, which also kills me because I really hope I did, and then I left the bathroom, got a bite to eat from the kitchen and fell back asleep. At 8am, my fiance comes running into the living room and yells "Babe! Tommy!". (Our female cat had woken him up when it was happening. That breaks my heart even more because she was attached to the hip with Tommy. They were best friends). I bolted to my bedroom to see Tommy just lying there halfway inside my closet and halfway out. I panicked. I lifted him up pulled him out of the closet to the floor right next to us. As I lifted him, he let out what sounded like the last bit of air in his lungs. I kept saying, "Tommy?? Tommy???" as he was still warm, very jello-like, and his eye were still glossy (no blinking). I called the vet (which wasn't opened yet) and left a voicemail panicking on what to do. I kept telling Tommy how much I loved him, and I thanked him for an amazing 5 years. I sang to him "you are my sunshine" and I just cried and cried and cried like I am right now. The vet called me back and asked him if he was cold, I said no. They asked if he was stiff, I said no. They let me know that "it was happening" and to bring him in for 9am. I kept looking at Tommy's eyes for a little bit of hope. Maybe he'd come back? We only did one day of the new medication and didn't get a chance to see if it would work. I cried for him. I put my left hand gently under his body while he was lying on the floor, almost holding him like he was my baby. I just cried. He started to go cold. My fiance and I said a prayer together for God to take him and keep him for us once we get there. The thought of never seeing my baby again shatters my heart. I really hope there's a kitty heaven. I keep thinking to myself, what if I took Tommy to the vet first instead of my female with the lump. We could've gotten the medication sooner and maybe he'd live a long life with me. The lump turned out to be only a cyst, which I'm thankful for, but it hurt even more knowing that Tommy's condition was much more serious. And I waited. I waited a week. A week that could've save his life. And I keep thinking to myself, why didn't I stay up with him on Friday? I knew he was weak but I didn't think he would go overnight, just like that. I haven't left my living room floor since Saturday. I haven't stopped crying. I eaten maybe 500 calories since then with no appetite. I can't even shower because Tommy why lying in the tub on Friday, the night before he died. I think he liked the cold. Was my apartment too hot for him? All these thoughts keep running through my head. Not many people understand this pain I'm experiencing. They judge. But I loved him so much. I keep thinking I could've done more. Tommy baby, you were my world. I miss you so much. I wish I could hold you in my arms just one more time and listen to those loud purrs of yours. I wish I could watch you "hunt" your toys again and giggle like I used to as you brought them to me. I wish I could wake up again and feel you lying on my chest like I did every morning, with your claws gently pressing into my chest. Now I cry, and I cry, and I cry, because you're not here with me anymore. You left too soon. You only lived 5 years. My baby, I miss you so much. When will this hurting stop? Until we meet again sweetheart. I love you.
  12. Its been almost 2 years since my baby passed away and i still cry every time i see his pictures, its 2am and i have work tomorrow but i just cant sleep because after all this time it still hurts a little bit whenever i think about how much i loved my cat. How whole he'd make me feel everyday and how i go home eager to be greeted by how he jump on me from the front gate trees. He was killed in a horrific way, hit by a truck left his entire head mangled. I try to look at his pictures so i wont remember him by how he looked when he died, but it still pains me. How he didnt even see me when he was dying. His eyes where ... unable to see after what happened . I still cant forget hot he twitched before he died. He was good. Pure soul filled with light for a street kitty and he died so badly. I just wish more people around me understood how i felt and how much i loved my Cat ChiSao.
  13. My poor cat died a few days ago and I feel so guilty. He was my first ever pet and I loved him so much. The worst thing was he died in the cattery while I was on holiday so I don't feel like I even got to say goodbye to him. I hadn't realised that he was ill so this has come as a great shock to me and I'm struggling to come to terms with him not being here with me as he was a very cuddly cat who was always by my side when he wasn't out playing. In hindsight I feel I should have realised that he was ill, but he didn't seem to be acting too much out of character and was his usual cuddly self. I just can't stop feeling guilty and wishing he was still here with me and that I could have done more for him. I hope he knew how much I loved him and didn't think I'd abandoned him.
  14. Loss of my boy cat

    2 years ago on July 2nd, 2015 an angel came into my life. I had had cats my entire life but this one was unlike any I'd ever known. I rescued him from a horrible situation-he had a broken leg and was scarily malnourished. He was under a month old. I raised money to pay for his surgery on his leg, I nursed him back to health, and I took him back East with me for my senior year of college. He was my best friend. In college I was depressed, lonely, isolated, and angry. But he was there with me through it all, helping to make my life easier. I got him another kitty to spend his days with, and she loved him as much as I did. They were my children, my angels, my best friends, and best friends to each other. They spent 9 months with me in college, and then moved back home with me when I graduated. Everyone loved him, though. She was a sweet kitty, but he was special. I named him Lumière, because he was the light of my life. We live in a coyote populated territory. But they loved the outdoors more than anything. I didn't want to deprive them of a life they enjoyed. So I allowed them access to the outside world, and they had the most amazing life. She's still with me, but she's not the same. We're both trying to cope. He went missing exactly a month ago. I can't cope. I feel guilty every second. I feel like a part of me is gone. I haven't talked to anyone about this because people judge it being a pet, but even typing this I feel a little better. I'm not a good mother, I should never have let him outside. He was too slow, too friendly, too domestic. I should've been smarter. I can't deal with this pain. I will never feel whole again.
  15. I lost my cat of 21 years yesterday... and the grief is breaking my heart .. she was everything to me ... we grew up and grew old together ... she is free from the discomfort of old age ... which is a good thing ... yet selfishly I ache and wished she was still here with me ..... How do you cope with the gnawing pain and sense of loss it is so raw ... so deep, so painful ... I miss her so much
  16. 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.
  17. 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.
  18. 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.
  19. Loss of my Cat

    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...
  20. I Can't Stop Thinking About My Cat

    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.
  21. How Do I Get Past the Guilt?

    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?
  22. 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 night....so 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 beast....you, 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 by....in 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 uneventfully....you 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!]
  23. 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.
  24. 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.
  25. 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
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