She is gone.
RIP Noki, The Black Beast of Aargh, Liquorice-Nose, Soot, Fluffypants, Norppatiikeri, my constant friend of the 12 years I've lived away from home.
4.2.1999-5.8.2016.
To make a long story short, the asthma had finally scarred up her lungs to the point where she had started to have serious breathing difficulties. And since she was a rescue cat, and thus had the cat flu virus dormant in her, she couldn't take much cortisone (an immunosuppressant) without it activating the cat flu again, and that's a lethal, painful, awful disease for a cat. I'd had it triggered by a cortisone injection before, and she nearly died from that. So the vet said that they could take a chest x-ray and give her cortisone and antibiotics, but there was little point because it was so likely the cat flu would come back and that would mean she would suffer even more. Plus, all of those things would've been really expensive anyway, and they could extend her life only a few months at best. She was a young and very sympathetic vet, and she said she'd had an asthmatic cat and knew how fast the illness could progress. And as Noki hadn't even eaten properly and had been really lethargic and her breathing was really laboured and she was yowling all the time in dementia (and possibly even pain) anyway, it was the more merciful and simple option to just put her out of her misery. I could tell she was really suffering during those last few days, and I did not want my beautiful friend to suffer any longer.
One of my favourite photos of her from the early days:
One of the greatest portraits of her, bold and proud on her 16th birthday in 2015:
Last snuggles at home, last night. I was still trying to smile, even if she had great trouble breathing, and only when I took this photo, I realised she had to even hold her mouth open to breathe:(. I already knew this might be our very last goodnight snuggle, so I took photos to commemorate. She still came to snuggle me as always, hungry for huggles herself. Always the bedtime snuggles. <3
And video from this morning before Dad and I took her to the vet: I already suspected this would be the last time she'd get snuggles from her best friend, so I immortalised this too. You might have to turn up the volume to hear her purrs--the last purrs of her in this life. Gods, but I am crying so hard as I write this. Translation of what I'm saying in the video: "Kulta pieni rakas. Nokin paras kaveri. Harri-Pappa."
"Darling, little beloved. Noki's best friend. Harri-Grandpa."
:(
When we had decided that it was the best option to let her go--I wanted to take one last portrait. (That's the vet coming in through the door, BTW.) The vet said that she could tell Noki was so very out of it anyway, and it was true... she said Noki probably didn't even know where she was and what was happening to her (especially after I'd told her about her dementia). But at least Noki still recognised me and Dad. So here she was, my beautiful Lime-Eyed Princess (Limettilärvi!) receiving her last tenderness from us.
One last loaf, and one last scritch from Dad, who was already resigned himself, saying goodbye to the creature to whom he'd been OTP BFFs 4Eva.
And Dad took one last photo of me with her, scritching her. You can see how devastated I am and how I was crying my eyes out.
I took one last shot of her when she'd passed away, but I won't embed it because I know how many people feel about seeing photos of dead animals--it's just a profile shot of her with her eyes closed, calm and serene, no longer suffering. You can look at it here if you wish.
I held her when they administered the last injections, and kissed her head and wept and told her to say hello to Alpo (my friend's cat who'd been the cat I'd loved the most before I'd had a cat of my own), Ropsukka (my family cat when we were kids), all the wonderful cats I'd known, and Connie, of course. I whispered the Kali mantra Amma gave me (it's about cutting things free, including souls, and Mother Nature as the mother of time and cycles) and told her she was now going into Bast's bosom, Mother Earth's lap, and she would be in pain no more.
Goodbye, my sweet, wonderful, beautiful, unique, amazing, sharing, participating, tender, curious, chatty, friendly-to-everyone, deeply loving, deeply rumbling companion and friend of twelve and a half beautiful, wonderful years I was blessed to share with you. I would not be here were it not for you, and I will never forget you, my wonderful, wonderful, deeply beloved friend.
4.2.1999-5.8.2016.
To make a long story short, the asthma had finally scarred up her lungs to the point where she had started to have serious breathing difficulties. And since she was a rescue cat, and thus had the cat flu virus dormant in her, she couldn't take much cortisone (an immunosuppressant) without it activating the cat flu again, and that's a lethal, painful, awful disease for a cat. I'd had it triggered by a cortisone injection before, and she nearly died from that. So the vet said that they could take a chest x-ray and give her cortisone and antibiotics, but there was little point because it was so likely the cat flu would come back and that would mean she would suffer even more. Plus, all of those things would've been really expensive anyway, and they could extend her life only a few months at best. She was a young and very sympathetic vet, and she said she'd had an asthmatic cat and knew how fast the illness could progress. And as Noki hadn't even eaten properly and had been really lethargic and her breathing was really laboured and she was yowling all the time in dementia (and possibly even pain) anyway, it was the more merciful and simple option to just put her out of her misery. I could tell she was really suffering during those last few days, and I did not want my beautiful friend to suffer any longer.
One of my favourite photos of her from the early days:
One of the greatest portraits of her, bold and proud on her 16th birthday in 2015:
Last snuggles at home, last night. I was still trying to smile, even if she had great trouble breathing, and only when I took this photo, I realised she had to even hold her mouth open to breathe:(. I already knew this might be our very last goodnight snuggle, so I took photos to commemorate. She still came to snuggle me as always, hungry for huggles herself. Always the bedtime snuggles. <3
And video from this morning before Dad and I took her to the vet: I already suspected this would be the last time she'd get snuggles from her best friend, so I immortalised this too. You might have to turn up the volume to hear her purrs--the last purrs of her in this life. Gods, but I am crying so hard as I write this. Translation of what I'm saying in the video: "Kulta pieni rakas. Nokin paras kaveri. Harri-Pappa."
"Darling, little beloved. Noki's best friend. Harri-Grandpa."
:(
When we had decided that it was the best option to let her go--I wanted to take one last portrait. (That's the vet coming in through the door, BTW.) The vet said that she could tell Noki was so very out of it anyway, and it was true... she said Noki probably didn't even know where she was and what was happening to her (especially after I'd told her about her dementia). But at least Noki still recognised me and Dad. So here she was, my beautiful Lime-Eyed Princess (Limettilärvi!) receiving her last tenderness from us.
One last loaf, and one last scritch from Dad, who was already resigned himself, saying goodbye to the creature to whom he'd been OTP BFFs 4Eva.
And Dad took one last photo of me with her, scritching her. You can see how devastated I am and how I was crying my eyes out.
I took one last shot of her when she'd passed away, but I won't embed it because I know how many people feel about seeing photos of dead animals--it's just a profile shot of her with her eyes closed, calm and serene, no longer suffering. You can look at it here if you wish.
I held her when they administered the last injections, and kissed her head and wept and told her to say hello to Alpo (my friend's cat who'd been the cat I'd loved the most before I'd had a cat of my own), Ropsukka (my family cat when we were kids), all the wonderful cats I'd known, and Connie, of course. I whispered the Kali mantra Amma gave me (it's about cutting things free, including souls, and Mother Nature as the mother of time and cycles) and told her she was now going into Bast's bosom, Mother Earth's lap, and she would be in pain no more.
Goodbye, my sweet, wonderful, beautiful, unique, amazing, sharing, participating, tender, curious, chatty, friendly-to-everyone, deeply loving, deeply rumbling companion and friend of twelve and a half beautiful, wonderful years I was blessed to share with you. I would not be here were it not for you, and I will never forget you, my wonderful, wonderful, deeply beloved friend.