So my cat died, and I am very sad. I mean, really sad. People who know me also know I have the emotional capacity of a wet sponge, and I am really surprised how badly I'm taking it. Anyway I don't usually do 'woe is me' threads but apparently talking (or writing about it in this case) helps so here goes. On Saturday afternoon around 4:30pm I had to put Spice, my cat of 17 years (!) down to sleep. Up until Friday he was his typical old man self (sleeps most of the day, comes out for hugs after the kids are in bed) but around 5pm he vomited up completely undigested food, which was odd enough for me to be immediately concerned. He's usually sheepish after chucking up but this time he was different. I thought I'd change his food and see how he was getting along the next morning. In the morning the first thing I did was go and check on him and he hadn't moved from his bed. The little food I'd put out the night before was undisturbed and he hadn't used his litter. Uh oh. Immediate call to the 24hr vets and booked an appointment for 9:45am. I actually wrote an arsey (for me) post in the kgorman79 interview thread while I was waiting for the appointment to come. I was not in a good mood. I was actually very upset and it may have shown. I knew whatever was wrong with Spice, it was pretty serious. Before I took him to the vets I told the kids he was very sick. I wondered if I should tell the kids to say goodbye to him because he might not be coming back but thought against it. While taking him there (it's a bit futher away than our normal vets because it was their 24hr facility) he weed himself and that has never happened in the car. After arriving at the vets we went straight in to see the Vet and basically while he looked sick she couldn't work out what was wrong with him. So she went off to consult with another vet but all of a sudden Spice looked like he was in real distress and started hyperventilating. Coming back the vet saw this and immediately took him off for oxygen. Not good. So I left him there to be diagnosed (lots of tests! Very expensive! Good thing we have insurance!) and went home and took the kids to the park. What else could I do? In the afternoon though, we got a call from the vets and it was not good news. His X-ray had shown up a big lump right in the middle of his abdomen. Cancer. First choice was operate but it's so deep his chances of survival were very low. Prognosis not good. Second choice was biopsy some of the lump, followed by chemo but he's 17, (equivalent of an 84 year old human) and it would probably kill him. Prognosis not good. He was also extremely anaemic and any operation would have to be preceded by blood transfusions first, but that would have delayed any operation and he was in such a bad way he would probably die. Third choice was to just let him go. So I said I'd speak to my wife and after a brief discussion we decided we should let him go. The main thing was he was in distress. When my wife had seen him walking around just before his trip to the vets she said he seemed drunk. So I had a talk with the kids about how he was very sick and he wouldn't be coming home and then called the vets to tell them the decision. The vet said he was deteriorating by the moment. So I rushed back to the vet to see him. And actually when he first came out of their carrier he seemed OK, all alert (happy to see me?) and curious about the room but soon I could see how bad he was. He didn't want to move, he just lay there letting me stroke him. He was trying to purr but what came out instead was a weird squeaky meow thing. When I did his favourite thing (stroking his face and eyes) he relaxed so much and his breathing slowed right down (you could see him panting) and I could have sworn if I'd carried on he would have passed away then and there. But he didn't and when the vet came back to give him his injection I asked her how long it would take. She said it would take 30 seconds to a minute but she hadn't even finished the syringe when he went, he was barely holding on. I stayed with him for a while afterward because quite frankly I couldn't bear to leave him. I kept leaving and going back, because he just looked like he was asleep. The vet made me a cup of tea and I said to myself I would have one last cup of tea with Spice and then leave. So I did. My wife said to me afterward that he was probably holding on, waiting for me to come so he could say goodbye. Without wanting to anthropomorphize him I do really think that's what happened. He was 17 years old and throughout that time I've been his constant companion. He lived in the old house for 7 years and he's been here since and the only person who's been with him throughout was me. I think I was the only one who played with him from the beginning. I like to think I was his favourite human. I had no idea what was going to happen to his body (I always joked that when he died I would throw him in the bin) but when actually presented with the decision? Bury him? What? I decided he would get cremated and he'll come back in a little sleeping cat urn. We should be getting him back in a week or so and when he does he's going straight onto the 2011 Thundercats shelf I set up in the Detolf in my mancave a couple of days ago. No joke. It's been just two days and honestly? I'm not doing great. Yesterday I was supposed to be going out and spending some time with an old friend while the wife and kids went to see a puppet show but I had to cancel because I had to clear away some of Spices' things that were in the kitchen. Basically we made him a big wooden house that his bed sits in so he's all covered and protected and stuff, but it also meant he could hide away inside of it and come out on his own terms. But now he's gone seeing his house tricks me into thinking he's just in there but oh no he isn't have another sucker punch. So I cleaned out his litter (all the while thinking 'I'll never clear out his shit again...') box (he had a big box, not a tray) and washed it and right now it's in the garden. His House is now where the litter used to be and his scratching post is also gone elsewhere. I'll put it into storage later but for now, it's just moved from it's usual spot. I also put into a little IKEA box some keepsakes for him (his favourite toys, a ball of his fur, a claw caught on the carpet) and I thought I was done when going through his house I found an old toy of his which was one of his favourites which he'd dragged in there and I'd forgotten he'd had. Cue the tears. I couldn't bring myself to clear his food tray, that'll stay for another day or so. Today I spoke to a friend about it (he was actually visiting us on the Saturday) and I broke down when I regaled him with Sundays activities. Great fun. I was also thinking to myself 'what if I had caught it sooner? How did I not see it? Did I not love him enough?' which was compounded by me going through all out camera pics last night wanting to compile a Spice picture directory. But it turns out we don't actually have many pictures of him! Whenever I was with him, I never took any pictures, it was usually someone else taking a picture of us together. But now I feel guilty about not having lots of pictures. I also looked up Cat cancer, (he had the rarest form apparently, abdominal!) to see how long he may have had it for, if it was avoidable or whatever. But the tumour was deep in his abdomen, there weren't any telltale lumps. Cat's are really good at hiding illness, and up until the day before he seemed absolutely fine. Cat cancer is also apparently very agressive, so he may not have had this for long either. Hell, we almost lost him last year due to an overactive thyroid! One bonus year. I also went online to lookup the '5 stages of grief' to see what kind of joys I have awaiting me. Looking it up I appear to be in 'bargaining' which explains all my thinking today. It also shows I probably skipped right through denial (how can I deny what was happening?) so I guess anger is due at some point. I was also thinking about 'the empty house'. I've lived here for a while now, and he moved in with us. If the wife (and now kids) were out I'd come home but the house wasn't actually empty, he was there. When my wife and kid went on holiday to Greece for 6 weeks and I was going through one of the roughest periods of my work life, aside from Pubes, setting up Autobot City dioramas Spice was there to get me through. Just me sitting there watching TV with him on me. If I came back from holiday I would always get him ASAP (either from a friends or cattery) because coming back to an empty house was always weird. But now, when I come home, it really is an empty house. Thanks for reading. Lastly, the car seat smells a bit of his wee. I cleaned most of it up but there is a faint whiff which I assume was him marking his spot. Little bastard. Edit Behold our mighty bellies.
I know where you're coming from. As a perpetual dog owner though, it's a different animal I can relate the loss to. Although it's all quote from people about losing dogs, take a look at this site, there's a lot in it that can probably be related to cats too; 30 Powerful Quotes About Losing a Dog & Dealing With Grief - Puppy Leaks I think the most fitting one is this; "The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.” – Elisabeth Kubler-Ross Phill
Oh, man. I'm so, so sorry for your loss. I'm a big, sappy cat person myself. So reading your story made me choke up more than I care to admit. You made the hardest decision a pet owner can ever make, and you did what was probably best for Spice in the end. 17 is, as you say, a LOT for a cat and from the sounds of things you made sure he each and every one of those was cracking, while he contributed in that special way only those fuzzballs can. In return, you allowed him to pass in his final days with most of his dignity left, while in the care and presence of the person he loved the most. In my mind, that's worth a hundred times more than any slightly extended time he might've gained through tough medical procedures which might not even have turned out effective. It's okay to feel guilty with what-ifs, buts, and feeling like you don't have enough photos. It's all part of the healing process and it just goes to show how much you cared for him. But know that you did everything you could because, as you say, cats are buggers when it comes to hiding their aches and feline cancer is a bitch. Cats are also shit at posing for photos, so I don't blame you for not having many of him. I'm still convinced people who post funny cat photos on the internet are wizards. The last thing I'll leave you with is The Rainbow Bridge, just in case you've never come across it before. I find that reading it shortly after loosing a feline friend helps a lot. In the sense that it makes you cry uncontrollably and let everything out. Then it's just slowly uphill from there. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a gnome cutting onions somewhere in here and I need to tell him to cut that shit out.
I'm so sorry. I've never had a cat, but I've been through a similar situation with our first family dog, so by the time I got to about your 7th paragraph, the water-works were going and everything was blurry. Cancer sucks -- cat, dog, human -- it's a shit-show. I honestly don't think there was anything you could have done differently.
You have my condolences and in my experience losing a long time pet has nearly the same impact as losing a family member if not the same. I love the idea of your memorial to him being with the Thundercats.
He had a good run, at 17. Sounds like he was able to make the most of it until the very end too. Terry Pratchett is credited with saying 'In Ancient Times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this' , and it's a highly accurate statement about the animals. They were never really domesticated by man, they just sort of showed up and moved in (there is a case to be made, that I am sure any cat owner will understand, that THEY tamed US). The point I am getting at is that cats, invariably, view humans the way we may view staff, but from the sounds of it, yours was a gracious and kind master. It sounds like you understand how lucky you were. It is hard to lose a friend of 17 years, and a family member to boot. I am sorry for your loss.
Sending thoughts and prayers your way. I don't mean that as perfunctory as it looks. It's just... there's nothing I can say that's going to make it all right.
Dammit Tik, you got me all verklempt here. I always respected you as a fellow collector and a fun poster. I now fully respect you as a human being. I still miss my best bud Lucky, and it's been a few years now. Dammit...
Sorry to hear this. My condolences. Even reading that is quite emotional. No pleasent way to go is there.
Sorry to hear about your loss. When my buddy Socks had to be put down, I could barely keep it together on the way over. Having him crying in the back didn't help. And I was the one who had to make the call with him. Today, the house feels empty despite the other cats that we have. None of them seem to act the same as Socks. My advice: Try not to think about it. It might make things worse depending on the situation. Just try and focus on other things until the time comes.
Had a lump in my throat for most of your post... well done, and hopefully therapeutic for you. So sorry, but always remember-- you were there till the end. He didn't go alone. You had me crying and lolz.. with the marking his territory and mighty bellies. . Totally understand how you're feeling, my kitty, Screamer, was 20 and it's the hardest thing.. first to lose them, then to miss them... and you will.... it's been 4 years, and I still miss my little girl.... while new babies help, you'll still miss them.
So sorry for your loss.... Read the whole thing and teared up twice. I was reminded of having to put our family dog down several years ago. Very similar situation all around (quick deterioration, tumor in her abdomen, she was old and probably wouldn't have survived the surgery to remove it) and we made the difficult to choice to end her suffering. I was in my late twenties at the time and went with my mom and dad to the vets office so we were all there with her to the end. I've never seen my father cry like that... They may be just a pet to everyone else, but to those that love them, they're furry little members of the family and losing them hurts just as much.
Yeah I've gone through it a few times recently myself. My oldest cat that I had since I was in highschool he was between 20 and 21(Stray so not sure of exact age) his kidney went and he had two really rough nights. So we took him to the vet...and well you know. Still miss him. Had him for so long. The next year, two dogs got loose from two neighborhoods over and got a hold of our youngest cat. We rushed her to the emergency vet, but they couldn't do anything for her. So we were left with one cat and one dog. The Dog passed away the next year Christmas day of old age in the living room. I've got one currently between 13 and 14 and he's on pills. So who knows how long he will last. We picked up an new Cat 2 months before the dog passed away because the cat already was acting depressed and the dog was his best friend. So now we have a 3 year old cat and a 14 year old cat. Luckily after the initial annoyment period they both get along pretty well now. But I still miss the oldest cat all the time and often find myself getting prepared to take the dog for a walk, only to remember he's not around anymore....(Though we still have boxes of his toys) It can be really hard, but it does get better. Though honestly I wouldn't mind a few more years[Hopefully many] with no pets [Or any relatives]passing away. All you can do is keep going and try to keep your mind off it.
