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It's been a hard couple of weeks for me. I was 5 years old when I got my first kitty on Christmas morning, and we were best friends ever since. When I was 19, I moved up north for college and couldn't take whitey with me to my dorms of course, so he stayed with my parents. He was about 14 when I went away for college and not having him at the foot of my bed at nights would make me the saddest about being away from home. I think there's something about your childhood pet that makes that bond so special.
As the years went by, I ended up in an apartment and with two cats of my own (Basil and Lapka) and as much as I wanted to take whitey with me I knew the most comfortable and least selfish thing for him at his age of 16 would be for him to stay in the home he always had known -with his family and without out the stress of my young rambunctious cats. On the weekends I went down to visit my parents, whitey was there to greet me first and sit beside me.
I watched Whitey age, in the way most cats age: sleeping often, benign growths, loosing teeth, so much fur growth he couldn't keep up with cleaning it, gaining weight, less interest in play, developing arthritis and not being able to get up on my bed anymore...But all that didn't matter, he was still my Whitey, no matter how old he got.
I can't say I didn't know this would be coming at whiteys age of 19, I just never beared the thought of it... When you grow up with someone your entire life, it's hard having to imagine life goes on without them someday.
A few weeks prior my mom told me whitey some days would sleep all day, or hardly get off his cat bed at all- but when he did it was to eat his dinner or sit by their feet on the couch. Some days he would have trouble getting in his litter box and would cry at his litter box, and wouldn't beable to go. Then eventually he would and all would be fine for a few days... Sometimes he would behave as if he was constipated and when he did poop it would have a small amount of blood in it and this would happen on and off. A few days he would be fine then a week would pass or so and he'd have an episode. It scared us all, as we knew at the age of 19 making it out of anesthesia for any type of procedure isn't always possible and the vet made us well aware of that when we told him.
And within just a few weeks it turned for the worst, it happened quick. My mom came home from work one day and found him completely buried in his litter box. Even his nose, covered in litter. She took him out and wiped him off, and noticed he suddenly weighed much lighter than he had the week before... He couldn't move his legs, or his feet, he just laid where she put him helplessly. She tried feeding him and he refused his food... That never happened. She sat with him for a while helpless and he cried out... Trying so desperately to move his legs, to get up and get to his litter box but the best he could do was wiggle his body towards it. And he peed right where he laid, his pee completely diluted in blood. And she knew.
She called the vet, and the vet said he could give him fluids and exams and tests, but it would take a few days to get any results back... And that was precious time. A stroke was possible, Kidney failure, a lot of really horrible possibilities,... And then the idea of putting him to sleep came up.
My mom called me immediately and I prayed he could make it for me to see him. I left for home that same weekend. My family says they think he was waiting for me. They said he didn't sleep once those two days that passed between... He stayed alert and determined to stay awake. And when I saw Immediately I feel apart.
I slept beside him on the living room floor that night, next to all his towels that were covered in blood and pee, and although I couldn't get him to purr like I always did, I got him to close his eyes and rest. I tried hand feeding him all his favorite things... Cream cheese, kitty treats, milk, grilled chicken... The only thing he was willing to take a lick of was the tuna can juice. And would give up because it would just fall out of his mouth. Although he didn't appear paralyzed I felt his arms, legs, feet and it seemed like the muscles had completely deteriorated. I cried, and although I know alot of people say putting your pet to sleep when they are suffering that bad is the kindest most unselfish thing for you to do for them, it gave me no comfort.
When we took him outside to put him in the car for the vet, he felt the sun heat on his face and he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful then.
At the vet, he let out a deep meow because he knew where he was, but it was only one, and it broke my heart that he wasn't even strong enough to meow like he usually would when he was at the vet. The vet told us through my blubbering tears that whitey was in a lot of pain and he suspected bladder cancer, as he did a psychical exam and found a large tumor in front of his bladder, and perhaps even kidney failure. He listed out kindly all the odds that were against Whitey with the options we would have had to made.
And I held him. I held his paw and pet his face and cried with my face buried in his fur, with all my family around. I thanked him for all the wonderful years he gave us and I held onto him until his very last breath.
I know this is really deep and emotional, but I know that if anyone understood this, it would be all the people with hearts like mine on the forums here.
Whitey was the closet person in my life I've ever had to say goodbye to, and I've just started coping. I dream of him at night.
Being there for his last moments was the most peaceful and most heartbreaking and terrifying thing I've ever experienced. But I do find peace in the memories of all the years, and I'm sure if anything, that's what we all have when they leave us for rainbow bridge. ❤️
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we have all been where you are now. My beloved black rescue cat, Harry, died last year of bladder cancer. It sounds the same as Whitey. Harry was not so advanced as Whitey so we tried an op but it did not work. How I wish we all had crystal balls to see if the operations will work or if they are a pointless, painful and stressful waste of time for our beloved pets. I am so sad for you but I am glad you saw Whitey and could tell him how much you loved him. I think pets are just the most wonderful, calming and peaceful parts of our lives, they give unconditional love and we owe them so much and when we eventually part ways we owe it to them to call the vet and help them pass peacefully and without pain. It is the final act of love we can give them. Take time to heal, remember Whitey with a smile and not sadness. Sending you my love. I'm now off to find Oscar and have a compulsory cuddle so he can mop my tears up........cat fur is very absorbent x
