Another posting of my cats and my life, to be safely skipped by those not interested in either..

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Well, Monday 9 June was another relaxing day from the Post Office. Up at 5 AM for breakfast, cat chores, catch up on E-mail and Newsgroups, and prepare to take Pearly to the vet for her annual shots, a checkup, and grooming. Some have inquired why Pearly was getting a bath. Well, she was getting to the point that she seemed unable or unwilling to groom herself completely. I suspected arthritis. Wrong. Totally Wrong.

My intention had been to pick up Pearly at 3 PM and bring her back home by 3:30. However, the vet had to talk to me. I’m not going to say how much all this cost, except to say it ate up all my holiday pay and overtime money for this paycheck. Next paycheck is 20 June.

Pearly is dying. She went from 5-1/2 pounds to 4-1/2 pounds in the last year. Her kidneys have failed to the point where I will have to give her 200 ML of fluids under the skin, twice a week, about $95 per month. I was shown how to do it, and was assured that I should have no problems. Blood tests showed she also had a liver problem, and probably some form of internal cancer. Further tests would have cost several hundred dollars more. Forget it. Not on my Chapter 13 budget.

We discussed putting her to sleep sooner or later. That will be $89.50 when the time comes. I asked what to look for, and he said to look for her stopping all eating, hiding away 24 hours a day, and no further interest in being petted. None of this has happened yet. And the vet agreed that spending another several hundred dollars on a 16 year old cat would not prolong her life all that much, if at all. They also will be special ordering me some canned food for Pearly that will help with her liver problems. I’ll pick it up 20 June when the next paycheck arrives.

We came back home at 4:30 PM; me, Pearly, the fluid bag, and a supply of needles. Next fluid infusion will be this Friday, then every Monday and Friday until “that time” arrives. In any case, I broke down and went on another “Eunuch Mood Swing”, the polite term for a prolonged crying jag from men in my condition. It would have been very embarrassing to have done so at the vets. When I finally came out of it, it was time for my regular Monday night AA meeting, which helped put me back on an even keel. “We don’t drink today, no matter what.”

Andrew (imported) wrote: Tue Jun 10, 2003 8:10 pm In any case, I broke down and went on another “Eunuch Mood Swing”, the polite term for a prolonged crying jag from men in my condition. It would have been very embarrassing to have done so at the vets.

Andrew,

Never be ashamed of showing your feelings for Pearly. I am sure that the Vets would not think any less of you if you had cried in their surgery.

Just over three years ago, I came home to find that my dog had died whilst I was out at work. I cried when I found him and cried when I took him to the Vets to make the arrangements for his body. No-one there treated me as if I was silly.

Enjoy the company of Pearly for as long you feel that it is fair to her, and then let her go. Grieve for her loss, but be comforted by the knowledge that you gave her the best life you could.

Losing a pet is always hard, in some ways it will be even harder since you will have to watch her deteriorate. I feel for you.

My first cat died from kidney and liver cancer. I was in denial when I saw the early signs as she was my first pet and I loved her like a daughter, or a life-mate. She started out at a fat 23 punds and lost weight till she was done to about 8 pounds. she was pooping outrsiede the litter box. Then she started peeing on the bed to tell me. Then she started crying in pain. This last part was after she was dignposed. it was terrible. What was worse was me holding on and pretending she might get better. Finally I had to do it. I sat holding her in mya rms in teh waiting room unable to stop crying until the sedation took effect and then I was with her when they did teh euthanasia. They placed her head so I woujld be the last thing she saw.

It took me years to accept it. But i wish I had been less selfish and let her go so she didn't live through all that pain. Your cats are special to you, Andrew, but cats ahve shorter lives than we do, and even a very sick cat will continue to live in pain. Theya lmost never just die. that's why we sayh tehy have nine lives. A cat almost always has to be killed by something or from an illness and even then when really ill and suffering, they continue on and on. That's why we, who love them so much, have to be strong enough to extend our good sense to knwo that sometimes putting them down is also a way of doing what is best and most loving for them.

Andrew, as we have communicated privately I will just state for the public record that I grieve with you.

Bless you for the wonderful time you have given Pearly.

Andrew (imported) wrote: Tue Jun 10, 2003 8:10 pm Another posting of my cats and my life, to be safely skipped by those not interested in either.

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It was going to happen sooner or later, but I wasn’t expecting it to be THIS soon. I came home last night (Monday 9 June) after the AA meeting, and Pearly seemed quite normal. She was in my bed, on her heated cat cushion. The cushion (from Drs. Foster & Smith) is one of those designed to heat to just 102 degrees, a cat’s normal body temperature.

So I got into my jammies, and spent the next half hour or so with Pearly. The usual petting and stroking, with her flopped on her side, legs and claws slowly moving in that “kneading” or “treading” reflex. As usual, I finally fell asleep, one hand resting on her purring body.

It was when I woke up next morning (Tuesday 10 June) that the first abnormal sign showed itself. Pearly was hiding out in her old Condo. She had not used it since that day last September when we first moved into this apartment. I reached in and petted her, she purred, but she did not want to come out and I did not try to force her.

When I came home from work, she was still there. I tried to entice her to eat some “Nutrimalt”, her favorite treat. She wasn’t interested. I looked at her, she looked at me, and I knew it was time. I called the “Emergency Pet Clinic” at 5:30 PM and made an appointment for 6 PM. I lined the carrier box with some T-shirts from the laundry, so she would have my smell with her. When I put her in the carrier, she did not resist or cry out.

At the clinic, all went smoothly. The staff were truly understanding and supportive. I was with her at the end, of course, petting away as she purred away. I was still petting her and stroking her as the vet gave her the medication. The phrase “to go to sleep” is quite accurate, and I am sure she felt neither fear nor pain. I let the clinic dispose of the body. Either I will see her again at the Rainbow Bridge or it doesn’t matter.

I have already e-mailed my Supervisor that I am taking the next three days off from work. I will be going to a lot of AA meetings. My thanks to all for your support, comfort, and understanding during this trying period of my life. And I am worried as to how Conway is going to take this.

I'm convinced you knew very well, that taking a sixteen year old cat was for to give him a better place to finish his life peacefully and amongst friendly, caring people.

Then why should you be embarrassed if you care indeed, if you became friends for real?

If you break down, don't forget that this is exactly the present you planned to give: You care. So don't regret that feeling.

You're giving a present.

edited:

I'm sorry for you and Pearly and Conway too.

Bad timing, my posting, as so many things in life.

I will take out the following words tomorrow.

I wish both of you all the best!

(BTW: I know from giving insulin-shots to a cat; it's astounding how you can put a needle into the skin of his neck while he is eating and he doesn't even notice.)

Tell him he's a famous cat, here on the Archive.

(9 lives)

I think my greatest comfort when I had to put down my aged or dying animals was that I at least had had that mch love to grieve losing. When I had to put myh dog to sleep the remaining cat -- the one he insisted on adopting as a kitten -- he found him under a car, 6 weeks old and wet and hungry -- looked for him, then went into a deep depression. Mya unt's cat came in a literally started to comfort him and force himout of his depression. then that cat came over to me and started comforting me. When myh aunt died, I took that cat in and he and mine are absolutely loving and cherish each other.

Anyone who tells me we are higher animals than theyare --

It is painful, Andrew, but you know this is part of life, to love deeply, to cherish, to be loved and cherished, and when the time comes, to mourn deeply. Don't fight that part, but don't let it daunt you either. it is as much a part of having pets as the good times. Anyone who loves as much as you do is loved that much in return.

I know just what you are going though, when I had to put down one of my dogs, I also held her in my arms, tiers running down my face. That was several years ago, I know I did the right thing but it hurt. Andrew, any of us who have had pets knows what your going through. I cant speak for the others but my heart goes out to you.



River

Riverwind (imported) wrote: Thu Jun 12, 2003 1:07 pm I know just what you are going though, when I had to put down one of my dogs, I also held her in my arms, tiers running down my face. That was several years ago, I know I did the right thing but it hurt. Andrew, any of us who have had pets knows what your going through. I cant speak for the others but my heart goes out to you.

River

Andrew,

I am so sorry, for more than one reason: First, that I only discovered your trouble tonight. Believe me, I share your grief and I am sorry I wasn't here for you.

There really isn't that much more to say, other than I understand. My family and I have had many pets through the years, and there is no question in my mind that the loss of one of those pets is every bit as much a loss as is a family member. Damn, they ARE family members!

God be with you, Andrew. I know it is little comfort right now, but I share your pain.