Thinking the worst

We nearly lost our cat a few months ago -- she spent a weekend unable to eat or drink. The vet assured us that she was in terrible shape -- problems with the liver and kidneys. We were preparing our offspring (I hesitate to call them children at this point, they are both young adults) for the worst.

Of course, both of them had moved out and left the cat behind. We still have copies of painfully hanwritten cat petitions, assuring us how each child would care for the cat, if we ever got one.

The cat has scratched every piece of furniture, every rug. Over the years, she has deposited her puke in every corner of the house. She produces half her volume in cat hair every day. Lately, she has taken to spraying her cat litter all over the bathroom floor. Still, I don't know what it would be like to write without her crowing against my elbow, trying to ensure that myu right han can't be used for anything but cat pleasure.

The vet put her on IV for a week, and she was restored to health. We have to hydrate her every night -- a comical process of cat retrieval, inserting the needle under her skin, and entertaining her for the five minutes or so it takes to let the fluid drip in. We've probably bought ourselves another five years or so of cat shenanigans. And it was worth it.
 
I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post an update, but to be honest I couldn't write about it. It turned out that Chivers had bad liver failure. Over the last few weeks we watched the weight drop off him, his eyes, mouth and other visible skin areas turn lemon yellow, he developed incontinence, was constantly tired but not sleeping, he ate and drank ravenously but was always sick, he stopped smiling at us any more or enjoying his life.

Today my mum took him to the vets'. He was massively dehydrated and the vet agreed that his quality of life was poor and she agreed to put him down. He died being held in my mum's arms.

Perhaps it's foolish to get so upset about a cat, especially when he had been ill for so long. It was the kindest thing to do for him, but I miss the cat that he was. He gave us so many years of fun, joy and affection. I know many of you who posted to this thread are also cat lovers and will understand how upset I am. Please just send your warmest thoughts to my mum who will not show how much pain she is in, but who will feel his loss the most.

x
V

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/217/475811593_898df4eb1d.jpg?v=0
 
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Oh dear. I just found some wobbly old video clips I took of him 3 years ago. I wish I had filmed him every chance I got, then I'd have more than three pathetic little clips of the most amazing cat I ever knew, none more than a few seconds long.

For anyone who cares to look - I put them on youtube

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V
 
*hugs* sweetheart, loosing a friend is never easy and just because it's a furry friend doesn't make it any easier. He had a good life, didn't he though? And you've got piles of good memories, that will be a wonderful comfort for you and your mum I'm sure. :)
 
*hugs* sweetheart, loosing a friend is never easy and just because it's a furry friend doesn't make it any easier. He had a good life, didn't he though? And you've got piles of good memories, that will be a wonderful comfort for you and your mum I'm sure. :)

He did - I'm trying to force myself to remember the good things, like the way he flipped himself upside down when he wanted you to tickle his tummy, the way he would fall off things when he got too enthusiastic in his rolling around, the way he just loved to sunbathe all the time then at night he would radiate that sunshiny heat back out. I loved the way he would smile at you when you said his name, the way he let me catch his tail then twitch it away when he'd had enough, the way he'd wake you up by patting you on the cheek with his paw, the way he'd sniff at flowers like this big wally, the way he'd recognise the sound of our car and come out to greet us by going splat in the driveway in front of it so that someone would have to come and pick him up so we wouldn't flatten him.

Thanks for letting me, basically, blog here :) It's helping.
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It's never foolish to be upset when you lose a pet. It doesn't matter how long they live or how kind it is to let them go. They are a part of your life; no other pet can ever replace them. One of my cats is asleep on my lap right now. I can't imagine life without her.

Chivers was a gorgeous cat. Best wishes to you and to your mum as you grieve for him. :rose:
 
It is never foolish to love a pet!
That is something that makes most of us better people.

Sorry for your loss :rose:
 
He did - I'm trying to force myself to remember the good things, like the way he flipped himself upside down when he wanted you to tickle his tummy, the way he would fall off things when he got too enthusiastic in his rolling around, the way he just loved to sunbathe all the time then at night he would radiate that sunshiny heat back out. I loved the way he would smile at you when you said his name, the way he let me catch his tail then twitch it away when he'd had enough, the way he'd wake you up by patting you on the cheek with his paw, the way he'd sniff at flowers like this big wally, the way he'd recognise the sound of our car and come out to greet us by going splat in the driveway in front of it so that someone would have to come and pick him up so we wouldn't flatten him.

Thanks for letting me, basically, blog here :) It's helping.
x
V

Awww, what a fantastic kitty. :) You write all you need to write, it helps, I know.
 
The nicest offer a friend ever made to my wife and I was volunteering to take a Siamese cat we'd dragged all over the world with us for that last ride to the vets. Mercifully, the cat died on our bed that night on his own. And I never had as much respect for my father as the day we drove into a vet's parking lot for our dog's regular checkup and he saw a woman bawling in her car, unable to take her dog in to have him put to sleep, and my dad said he'd do that for her.

I sure wish I would have had someone like that when the border terrier we had when I was 18 years old was ready to be put to sleep. We'd just moved from Novi, Michigan to Canton, Michigan. At the house in Novi, she had free run and a huge backyard, she was a happy dog. (Her name was Ginger and she looked just like the dog from the Benji movies)

Anyway, when we moved to Canton, my parents immediately started remodeling the house and (to this day I don't know why) they carpeted a majority of the house with white carpeting. By this point, Ginger was having problems with her kidneys and bladder...she always had to wear a doggie diaper.

She was confined to one room in the house and never seemed to want to go outside. After about two months and the vet telling us there was nothing that could be done for her, my parents decided to have her put to sleep. Unfortunately, I was nominated for the job.

The vet's office was only a 2 minute drive from our house and she seemed to know what was coming. She didn't resist or struggle when I put her in the nurse's arms, but when the nurse gave me back her collar and leash, I lost it.

I had to call my dad to come pick me up because I was crying so hard, I couldn't drive. To this day, I still get freaky going into a vet's office and that was nearly 20 years ago that this happened.

People who've never owned pets don't understand that a pet becomes part of your family, regardless if it's a cat, dog, gerbil, or whatever.

Okay, I've rambled long enough, sorry.

Good thoughts for you, Vermillion. I know it's hard to lose a loved one. Even the furry ones. :rose:
 
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