Thank you
Thank you for all the comments today. They've been pouring in here, at kittypix, and at Facebook, since I posted the news today. It's been a constant stream of love that has helped.
This is the last picture I took last night:
My instincts have been telling me for the last couple of weeks that he was getting worse. His appetite was decreasing a bit, the level in the water dish was dropping, and he kept meowing, kept trying to get my attention. I was worried that he was suffering and couldn't tell me about it in a clear way.
I watched him last night, and I really didn't think he was a happy cat. He was happy for the extra scritches and treats he was getting, and he got lots of those, but other than that, he just didn't seem happy. My instincts told me he was existing, he wasn't living a full life any more.
I also admitted to myself that he was really taking his time settling down on the bed and couch, like it hurt to crouch or lie down. He's been losing mobility for a while, I had boxes and stools set up so he could climb onto his favourite surfaces easier.
I remembered that when he was first diagnosed, I promised him that I would not try to extend his life as long as possible. This was not going to be a contest, quality of life was the criteria. For the last few months, I've been talking to him, telling him that he has to let me know when he's ready to go.
After his 16 year anniversary with me last month, I told him I was ready to let go. Last night, I started admitting to myself that it could be time. I meditated and prayed on it a lot.
I still had some hope - I had to Talk with the vet this morning about the blood and urine tests done on Saturday. To make a long story short, the vet also felt that Comet was suffering.
On Saturday, he weighed 11 pounds. He weighed 10.2 pounds this morning.
Dr G is awesome, by the way. He told me that few cat owners have done what I was able to do with Comet, keeping him alive and in good comfort as long as I did. He was full of compliments and never once made me feel like I should have done more. And he was clear that there was nothing new to try at this point.
He said I could take a day to think about it, spend more time with him, but I didn't want that. It would have been selfish, and I think it would have made it harder for me. I've been thinking about it a lot lately.
So I picked out an urn (cedar wood, because cedar trees grow on Vancouver Island where my father was from), paid in advance, and got some time alone with him.
What I feel bad about was, the whole time we were there, all Comet wanted to do was escape from the room. He smelled both doors in the exam room, figured out which door led to the lobby and outside, and basically tried to get out of that door. That's all he was thinking about, was escape. He knew bad things happen at the clinic, just being there was stressful. I couldn't relieve his stress, and believe me, I tried. :-(
They had everything prepared when I finished paying. I blurted out that I could not watch, and I freaked out when they said I could see him after they were done. Basically, I said my goodbye to him with a final scritch, left him in the vet's caring hands, and bolted out to the parking lot, empty carrier in hand. I could not stay in the clinic while it was happening. I just went home. (They knew I was going home, I didn't just disappear).
Bonnie freaked me out when she wouldn't appear when I got home. She appeared shortly after I posted, and has been checking on me all day. Last night, she sensed I was distressed and snuggled with me while I slept.
She hasn't figured out yet that Comet isn't returning. She probably thinks he's at the vet or the groomer, and he'll appear in a while. When she was hospitalized last May, it took Comet a day to start looking for her.
I called my best friend, because she always had a good bond with Comet. I totally choked up on the phone, but got through it. Amy's household is going through the stomach flu, so I couldn't go over and spend the day with her.
Now I'm just drained. I feel I did the right thing, and all I wish I could have changed was to take away his stress at the clinic. My boss gave me a bereavement day for tomorrow, so no worries about having to go to work. I think shopping therapy is called for.
This is the last picture I took last night:
My instincts have been telling me for the last couple of weeks that he was getting worse. His appetite was decreasing a bit, the level in the water dish was dropping, and he kept meowing, kept trying to get my attention. I was worried that he was suffering and couldn't tell me about it in a clear way.
I watched him last night, and I really didn't think he was a happy cat. He was happy for the extra scritches and treats he was getting, and he got lots of those, but other than that, he just didn't seem happy. My instincts told me he was existing, he wasn't living a full life any more.
I also admitted to myself that he was really taking his time settling down on the bed and couch, like it hurt to crouch or lie down. He's been losing mobility for a while, I had boxes and stools set up so he could climb onto his favourite surfaces easier.
I remembered that when he was first diagnosed, I promised him that I would not try to extend his life as long as possible. This was not going to be a contest, quality of life was the criteria. For the last few months, I've been talking to him, telling him that he has to let me know when he's ready to go.
After his 16 year anniversary with me last month, I told him I was ready to let go. Last night, I started admitting to myself that it could be time. I meditated and prayed on it a lot.
I still had some hope - I had to Talk with the vet this morning about the blood and urine tests done on Saturday. To make a long story short, the vet also felt that Comet was suffering.
On Saturday, he weighed 11 pounds. He weighed 10.2 pounds this morning.
Dr G is awesome, by the way. He told me that few cat owners have done what I was able to do with Comet, keeping him alive and in good comfort as long as I did. He was full of compliments and never once made me feel like I should have done more. And he was clear that there was nothing new to try at this point.
He said I could take a day to think about it, spend more time with him, but I didn't want that. It would have been selfish, and I think it would have made it harder for me. I've been thinking about it a lot lately.
So I picked out an urn (cedar wood, because cedar trees grow on Vancouver Island where my father was from), paid in advance, and got some time alone with him.
What I feel bad about was, the whole time we were there, all Comet wanted to do was escape from the room. He smelled both doors in the exam room, figured out which door led to the lobby and outside, and basically tried to get out of that door. That's all he was thinking about, was escape. He knew bad things happen at the clinic, just being there was stressful. I couldn't relieve his stress, and believe me, I tried. :-(
They had everything prepared when I finished paying. I blurted out that I could not watch, and I freaked out when they said I could see him after they were done. Basically, I said my goodbye to him with a final scritch, left him in the vet's caring hands, and bolted out to the parking lot, empty carrier in hand. I could not stay in the clinic while it was happening. I just went home. (They knew I was going home, I didn't just disappear).
Bonnie freaked me out when she wouldn't appear when I got home. She appeared shortly after I posted, and has been checking on me all day. Last night, she sensed I was distressed and snuggled with me while I slept.
She hasn't figured out yet that Comet isn't returning. She probably thinks he's at the vet or the groomer, and he'll appear in a while. When she was hospitalized last May, it took Comet a day to start looking for her.
I called my best friend, because she always had a good bond with Comet. I totally choked up on the phone, but got through it. Amy's household is going through the stomach flu, so I couldn't go over and spend the day with her.
Now I'm just drained. I feel I did the right thing, and all I wish I could have changed was to take away his stress at the clinic. My boss gave me a bereavement day for tomorrow, so no worries about having to go to work. I think shopping therapy is called for.