Needing To "talk", Moved to: "Death & Dying"... Options

[josephinius]

**MOVED TO DEATH & DYING, FOR MORE READERSHIP....**
**********HI CINDY!!: JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I WAS CONTACTED BY ONE OF OUR WONDERFUL
FRIENDS, PATTI (GINGERSPAL), WHO LET ME KNOW THAT YOUR POST MIGHT HAVE MUCH BETTER RESPONSES, IF POSTED IN ANOTHER AREA........
YOUR POST HAS BEEN MOVED TO THE "DEATH AND DYING" SECTION OF 'Lightning Strike"...

There will be much more readership in that section, and soooooooo many people who will relate to your story.


GOD BLESS YOU, OUR NEW FRIEND,
LOVE, DENISE (MUFFINS)**********
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Hi.

I've just discovered this site. I've never done this before, don't know if I'll get it right--but I want to say that so far, just reading the "posts" (?) has been really helpful. Thank you.

I tend to write too much, so I'm going to really endeavor to be brief.

I just lost my fourth cat in seven years (and my seventh pet--three died of old age,) as a result of allowing them to go outside. Each loss was slightly different: one disappeared on a rainy night and we never did know what happened. One got into a fight, injured her eye, and died on the operating table; one was killed by a coyote in this new neighborhood; and the last--Xena--was hit by a car this last weekend.

What absolutely kills me is that I swore on August 18, when my cat Zoe came home after a two night absence, that I would never let the cats out again. And I didn't--for a week. I don't want to blame my husband, but I am influenced by him--and he said, "Not at all? Not ever?" And I said, "Okay, maybe when it's raining." (It rains here a lot and they usually do stay a lot closer to home."

So it started raining--raining hard--last week. I let the cats out. After Shela died, I also swore that if I did let them out, I would never go to bed without making sure they were all inside at night--and since Mother's Day, 2003 (which is when she died,) I had not missed a night.

Then--I got distracted. Oddly, I was distracted by things going well! For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was doing okay, I was on the right track--and Saturday, I was something of a celebratory state of mind. Didn't feel the anxiety I almost always feel--and it being so different, I just wanted to enjoy it. I more or less totally forgot my resolve about outside in rain only. Well, the morning was still gray, too--but that doesn't matter. I'd forgotten.

Worse, that night, I forgot to call Xena in. Why? Because Zoe, who is usually the one who needs to be coaxed, had already come in. I guess I figured Xena was also in--or would come in when my son came in from work, or that he would call her, or something. Anyway, I went to bed.

My mood was still high Sunday. It was sunny--gorgeous--the family was together--we spent the day playing downtown, very unusual--came home and barbecued steak. . .I never even thought about the "Z." Monday came--Labor Day--still feeling good. Worked around the house, finally made some progress in some long-delayed progress, even got the kids to help. Life was good.

Then, my husband and I went for a walk in the mall, taking our 11-year old Steve with us. Somehow, we miscommunicated with Steve and lost him to the point that I had to have him paged (and they were about ready to call security.) My ebullient mood vanished--I began to feel like I'd been in a fog--that there were things I just wasn't catching on to.

We drove home--and when we got there, I realized--I hadn't seen Xena since Saturday. Ah--anxiety returned.

There was still hope. Just because I hadn't seen her didn't mean she hadn't been around. My daughter was almost sure she'd let her in Sunday night (summer--kids almost always go to bed later than I do--and they've been charged with also making sure the cats are in.) But my husband also swore that he hadn't let her out in the morning. At this point, it was two nights away. Not hopeless--Zoe had returned after that long--but Xena rarely seemed to be out of calling distance.
She liked home--she liked us. Zoe's just generally kind of mad at us--not sure why--different personality. Z loved everyone. That was the only scary thing about her--she might be within calling distance, but she had good ears. But I'd still never seen her come from the direction of the busy road (about a block away.) We have woods across the street, plenty of scope for exploration right here--and that's where she usually seemed to be--but sometimes, she'd come from three or four houses up the street, across the street--and she was not very bright when it came to cars. We live on a dead end and the only people who drove in front of our house generally lived in our house--and we'd watch out for her--but she made me nervous more than once. I didn't feel that great about her being across the next street, but it's a hilly, quiet neighborhood and most people don't drive fast.

Next morning, though--still no Z. So, I quickly printed up some flyers on our computer (no picture--another sadness--we'd had her for 15 months, but apparently took very few pictures (I've now located one.)) I figured if anyone had seen her, they'd know, though--her markings were pretty distinct. I put just six of them on our community mailboxes--and prayed.

That night we got a call. Someone who evidently lives in the neighborhood (who sees the mailboxes, at least,) found Xena Saturday night--about 1/2 mile up the busy street (she said--I didn't talk to her, my husband did,) dead. She'd picked her up and taken her to the Humane Society, hoping to find her micro-chipped so the owners could be notified. (She wasn't, but she did USE to have a collar with ID; managed to lose it though and we didn't replace it.) No luck there--but she did also take a picture--Z in a box, looking, my husband said, as if she were sleeping.

I am very grateful to this woman (who left her name and phone but no address,) for taking such good care of my cat (even if she was the one who hit her.) I am grateful to know what happened.

But I feel--despite having read that blurb on "guilt"--so STUPID, and so guilty. Z wasn't even two years old yet--I allegedly "rescued" her--and I promised to take care of her. I had every intention of doing so, but apparently I am a slow, slow learner.

But I can learn. And I guess if I can say anything (because I don't expect to feel better for awhile--I know it will dull and pass and one thing about pets, especially cats (it seems) there's no shortage of them available for adoption, but I don't even want to forget,) it's keep your cats inside! Every cat I've gotten, I've said I'd do that--and I know, sometimes it's really hard. In fact, the aforementioned Cosmo (also one of the coolest cats in history (we have lots of pictures of him,) would work the door to our "dog room" (where we had a dog door,) until he got it open--and then leave. He got to where he could get out the latched screen door. Candy (the one who died on the operating table,) would yowl so much (in the middle of the night) to be let out that it was almost intolerable. It can be tough--and I know there are some weird advantages to letting them go out. (One neighborhood we lived in was infested with moles. We'd been keeping cats in, but couldn't seem to solve the mole problem. Let cats out--never saw a mole hole again. We also had rats in that neighborhood, but not in OUR yard (not after the beheaded rat was left on our back porch.) On the other hand, birds are also vulnerable, and that's not so neat.) There's also the litter box issue. We have multiple boxes for our multiple cats, but if we don't scoop daily, one is sure to use something else, like clean laundry. Letting them go outside (our neighbors have not complained,) at least takes a little stress off the boxes.

And they do have fun. Xena especially saw outside as her personal gym. Up the trees, up the fence, chasing bugs, lying in the sun as if the gutter were her throne. But she was also okay inside. Zoe howls to get out, but Xena--okay, she'd dash out, but we could almost always catch her (where Zoe--not so much.)

But it's not worth it. I have cats because I love them--I love animals--and I also want to help. I try to get cats that need homes--that have been abandoned or were strays (which can make it difficult too because they've already tasted the world.) I also like having them around--they comfort me--and while it's cool that they're so independent and can take care of themselves, what's the point of having them if I never see them because they're outside all day and inside when I'm asleep?

I don't know if it would have made a difference if I'd called her that night. Like I say, she usually was at the door--she kind of liked to tease Zoe, I think (though she was mellowing,) and if Zoe was going in, so was Z--it was a race to see who'd get in first. I don't know what time she was found on Saturday--just that it was night. If it was early--it might not have made a difference. But what if it was later--what if Z had been around, but when no one indicated it was time to come in, she decided to go on a jaunt (and I do know that once it's dark, their wild side kicks in a little harder.) And this time, for whatever reasons, she went the wrong way. (We haven't heard coyotes in awhile--that didn't seem to be quite as much risk.)

I can't answer. The only thing I know is--I had a second (third, fourth, fifth,) chance. I had a wake-up call 18 days earlier, and I didn't heed it. Well--not again.

This is enough for me.

Thank you for letting me speak.

Gratefully,
Cindy

This post has been edited by Muffins: Sep 9 2004, 09:22 PM

[gingerspal]

Cindy,

You have obviously come to some unshakable conclusions--and I don't blame you one bit! I totally agree. I never wanted an outdoor cat ---but I felt I couldn't keep him indoors after I had adopted him off the streets..(I brought him in every night too) but the inenvitable happened --I lost him because of a vehicle. Every now and then I am tempted to get another cat "for the yard" but I stop short because of all the heartache of losing Ginger. It irks me that all my neighbors seem to do fine with cats (well, no I am not unhappy that the neighbors cats are healthy and well!) but I wonder how come those cats can be outside and not get killed like mine did! envy, really. But I could not agree with you more..The heartbreak is not worth it. I never want to go through it ever again.
Thanks for writing. I am so sorry your lost your beloved friend.
Even though it was from an accident and not an illness I hope you believe that your kitty Xena is now at the rainbow bridge--100% beautiful, healthy whole and in perfect bliss. My heart goes out to you!
Love,
Patti
P.S. I think your post would get more response if it were moved to a different forum..I am going to ask one of the moderators

[Sharon]

Hi Cindy,
I do agree our cats would be safer indoors. We live in an area where we have to worry about owls at night, and cyotes.
We're fortunate to have a 6 foot fence (that the cats don't jump!), and most of the time they stay up on the deck and "look down and survey their domain".

We let them out during the day when we're home, and they rarely make the effort to go down the steps to the yard. But they are NOT allowed outside after dusk and are NOT allowed outside other than the backyard during the day. Phoebe usually just sleeps on the glider all day. I figure it's a balance of them enjoying the sunshine and my peace of mind.

So far, it's worked, as my Zoe's passing wasn't related to her chasing birds and chipmunks - and she got SO much enjoyment out of it! She brought a bird up onto the deck for me, and I said "Zoe, No!" and she dropped it immediately and it flew away. I was sorry for the bird, but she was so proud of herself!

Thanks for letting me ramble.
-Sharon

[LittleGirl's...]

Cindy,

I'm so sorry about what happened to Xena!!! I know your heart is broken.
Please try not to feel guilty! Your intentions for Xena were not bad. In fact, you knew how she absolutely loved to play outside, and you liked seeing her happy. You mentioned how you had 2nd chances, etc. But it's totally understandable, and very human, to let things slide, especially when nothing seems to be going wrong. You are human.

Although I agree with you, overall, about keeping cats in, there are some cats (I know one in particular) who almost need to be outside or else they'll go crazy. Xena was able to have a blast outside. If you think of the full life she had, maybe that would help in your grief.

She is still close by. Her body has died, but her spirit is alive and knows only bliss---no pain of any kind.

You'll be in my prayers! Love,
Kathy

[SJ J & S]

OK Stupid question ---

We walk highly intelligent dogs on lead – why not cats?

Another point – humans get run over by cars too, it’s the price we all pay for the high flying lives we lead I guess, but we don’t debate whether we should lock each other up !!!!!

Sorry guess I'm just rambling.

Sue

[Gort]

Losing so many in a short period of time is such a tragedy. But don't give up on your obvious love of cats. Yes, it hurts like hell right now and will for some time. But the time will come when your heart will be open for a new cat. It won't be tomorrow, next week or even next month. Maybe a year or two but I know from experience that the day will come when you want and need a kitty to brighten up your life again. When my Ava dog passed away, I was sorely tempted to get a kitty but I need time to grieve. My previous cat disappeared (wondered off to die) a few years back after being in my life for 17 years. I still miss her but I don't grieve for her anymore. I remember the happiness she brought me and my kids. She was the best mouser I ever ran across. One day I'll get another cat and/or dog but right now I must finish grieving for my Ava before I get either again.

As for keeping any future cats locked in the house, that's your call. Personally, I couldn't do this to my cat as much as I would have like to. IMO, cats need that outdoor time. They are hunters and although they may have toys and things to substitute for 'the hunt', nothing replaces the great out doors for them where they can practice stalking and pouncing. I was upset when birds fell victim to Mott (my old cat's name) but she didn't get too many of them and she took care of all the mice (inside and out where mice could and did come into the house) and moles etc. But having said all that, I have several friends that live in apartments who's cat's live contented lives and basically have never tread on real grass or climbed a real tree. My old cat used to make me laugh when I'd watch her in the yard. Leaping up and flipping around at butterflies and moths that were mostly too elusive for her.

I know you're hurting big time right now, but don't beat yourself up too bad. You did your best for all your charges. Fate just dealt you a bad hand. It will get better.

[josephinius]

It's Saturday morning--first chance I've had to get back to the computer since I made my first post on Thursday.

Thank you for moving me--by the way--and thank you to Gort, Sue, Kathy, Sharon, and Patti for your kind responses. The last thing I've felt I deserved was kindness--so far as I'd read, I was the only one who had a pet die due to what I'm calling negligence--but I saw how you all wrote to the others and hoped maybe I wasn't the only one? I appreciate the alternative views, too--cats outside or in or both? It's still hard, given the cir%%stances already stated, I still want to bang my head on the wall (so I can focus on a different kind of pain?) but it helps shift my perspective a little. Thank you.

For what it's worth, I am doing better. It almost seems wrong--and then it seems like the wonder is that I can feel anything at all given how many pets we've lost in the last several years--and that could be part of it. But I also think that allowing yourself (as we who visit here are clearly doing,) to wholly feel your pain ultimately does. . .help. I'm not sure how or why--maybe the grief runs its course faster--maybe we can only take so much and our defense mechanisms kick in--don't know. I just know that there comes a point (at least for me) when it will seem like the grief just lifts. I've actually attributed it to God (thinking out loud,) because there've been times when it will almost seem like night and day--how could I have felt so bad one moment and the next, I don't? (I do believe in God and I do believe He can do that if He wants to--and even if I feel like it's too soon to feel okay, I accept it.) So--perhaps your prayers also were a factor. Because I also felt like I couldn't pray--couldn't ask for help--but yesterday I almost felt like God WANTED to comfort me, and I wasn't letting Him, and I should just. . .do it. I didn't--but I did tell Him how I felt--and it turns out I was kind of mad at Him--but it opens the door. So--thank you. And I will be praying for you as well.

Not to say everything's fine or the week has been erased or I can go sit in my living room where I last petted the Z (Saturday morning,) and looked into her eyes and thought/told her what a pretty kitty she was yet--or that I don't start crying still when I start to think of her--but it doesn't feel like a crushing weight.

And I guess I go into all of that to say--hang in there!

And that I do think it helps to read the sad stories--perhaps because it helps us fully realize our own sorrow--which may eventually ease it.

Meantime--there is one good thing about cats: they are so independent, and in my case, spent so much time outside or sleeping where I couldn't see them (though I will say the cat sky scraper is here where our computer is, and Z could often be found sleeping at the top--legs hanging off,) that getting through a day and not seeing them there is not that abnormal.

However--for the dog owners out there--I've been there, too. I wish I'd known about this site when we lost Hannah, our Boxer. Besides the fact that we'd owned her when our kids were little and I was home, and that she required so much more of our attention generally (had to be let out, needed to go on walkies,) she could hardly bear to not be where we were. More--she snored--if she was not awake, she was snoring--so we saw and heard her all the time. She was also the BEST dog (I'm sorry--I win!) Seriously. Okay, she'd get on the couch when we were gone (and sneak off just as soon as she heard us come in--but we could tell by the warm spot,) and if there was garbage out, she'd get into it--but otherwise, never a problem. She didn't bark (just growled at people who didn't pay me proper respect,) she didn't fight (didn't have to--most dogs bowed before her,) she didn't leave--gate would be open (we had a dog door for awhile,) and we'd come home to find her sitting on our front porch. She loved cats, and the cats loved her--for reasons unknown, we didn't have one cat that didn't love to bury its nose in Hannah's ears (which were cropped--not by us.) We have pictures of Cosmo wrapped around her face, pulling at her lips--never a move. Little kids would play with any movable parts (she had quite a few)--never a shudder. (We made sure they didn't hurt her.) Her worst pain came not from being sick and dying, I think, but when we had to put her on the back porch because she was so incontinent, (although being as sick as she was, she didn't protest the way she might have--also an indication that it was time.) We only did this for about a day--she spent a day at the vet's--and then we joined her for her parting. At least, I did. I was the only one who could bear to be in there with her.

So I feel for you. I have kids--and losing one of them is unthinkable, I mean, seriously--my brain won't go there. But it does not offend me at all to compare the loss of a companion pet to the loss of a child (though I may change my tune if I lose a child--oh please God, no!) Even the least independent toddler begins a process of drawing away from his/her parent, and it's something that parents have to allow, it's our job to grow them to the point of being able to leave. But pets--dogs especially?--often seem to feel that their primary purpose in life is to be at our side, if not physically, then in spirit. How could you/we not miss them when they're not there? How could it not feel like losing a part of yourself?

My kids (ages 18, 16, and 12,) don't get excited to see me come home. My kids (well, the 12-year old) shove me off if I try to touch them (okay, so one of my cats does that too.) They're certainly not interested in me. Hannah would look at me as if she worshipped me, as if her desire was for me to be happy with her. Some people might find that a little cloying, but it's still kind of nice in a world where we sometimes feel like we have to fight to be seen.

I know YOU all know this. It's just part of my process of understanding what this is all about--because I know the pain can hit like a logging truck, and if you've never experienced it before, you might think you were going crazy.

What seems crazy to me is people who seem to feel nothing--but we all do experience loss differently.

By the way--after about a year, we got another dog (it took that long to feel like it was okay,) a Pomeranian, also named Sparky. It's not the same--he's more like a cat except that he doesn't use a box (and my how much handier it would be if he did, because he's not the most reliable when it comes to "going" outside.) But he still has to be with us, just like Hannah. Or, I should say, he has to be with my daughter Jamie, but I'll do if she's not available. I think waiting to get another dog was wise, but there is something to be said for the distraction and joy (or frustration) a new pet brings. And though I am the Typhoid Mary of cat ownership, at least. . .at least they got a chance. This may sound sick, but it has helped me to think (in the past, anyway,) that one cat's death gave another cat a chance for life.

Which brings me to another thing that has helped--may have started as a guilt offering, but it still helped! And that was that I gave money both to Animal Aid, the organization from which we adopted Xena, and to the Humane Society, where the good Samaritan who found Xena took her in her effort to locate an owner. It allowed me to memorialize the Z, on one hand, and also to allow her life and death mean something. How do I know? Maybe a cat due to be euthanized will get a few more days to live--the days needed for that perfect owner to meet her? I don't know if Z would care--she was queen of the world--but I feel better.

I really do write too much, but it's therapeutic. Thank you.

Bless you.

Cindy

[gingerspal]

Hi Cindy--
don't worry, you don't write too much.
and just so you know --my significant other and I ran over my beloved cat ourselves in our own driveway. (s.o. was driving, I was passenger...I should have gotten out to check for Ginger before letting s.o. pull up) So I don't know who could possibly feel more "negligent". But through the help of everyone here I am healing. I like what you wrote about making a donation in your Zoe's name. I haven't yet figured out what to do in Ginger's honor. I will do something. I got a kick out of your dog being like a cat. My cat was like a dog. lol. I will always miss my Ginger. my dog-like-cat. He was so wonderful it still breaks my heart that I lost him. I don't cry oceans like I did in the beginning--but if I think about it "too much" I sure could.
I enjoyed your great memories of Hannah...and you are correct--to read about so much love between animals and people here is a suave for the burn.
Love,
Patti

[josephinius]

Huh. I just lost the message I was writing to you, Patti. And now, I'm out of time.

Well--I just wanted to say my heart wrenched when I read your post. I am so so sorry. That was my worst nightmare, too, particularly with the Z (Xena--Zoe is actually still alive--but it's confusing, I know!) She was rather like a dog--would trot out to greet us (some cats always seem to scowl--Xena always seemed to smile,) running right in front of the car. We did live on a dead end and had to round a corner to enter, so we were always going slowly--and I left with great fear and trembling if she was out, watching until I could see her off to the side, sometimes getting out and moving her inside. But--if I could forget, just once, to call my cats in at night--there's every possibility I would have forgotten, just one time, to make sure we had the all clear before driving out, too--and it only takes once.

I can imagine what this must have felt like--but I don't like it! My brain wants me to think about other things--it's too hard. But I'm glad you are doing better.

I've read about Maine Coon Cats (that's Ginger, right? I lose track,) and was acquainted briefly with one once--have wanted one ever since. One thing I do know--after awhile, you can think about them and be grateful to have had the time with them more than you are sad to have lost them.

And--as my sister-in-law pointed out--not sure what I think of this totally, but if God knows what happens to the sparrows, if He numbers their days--then maybe. . .it was just time. When you know it was preventable, when the cat was young and healthy, and perhaps especially if it happens by something you did--it just seems wrong. And I wonder (assuming this is true,) why God would bother--and if He does bother, why He'd be so callous. Sparrows are one thing--MY cat is another altogether. But everything does die. Reading here--it's clear that just like people, everything could be going right--and then bam! A disease you didn't see coming takes them--when they're young! I just don't know--but perhaps sometimes these accidents are mercies? Not to you, maybe, but to them? Is it better to watch a pet get ill and have to make the decision to euthanize? What if they could get better? We had a cat that did! Our dog, too--she gave us a scare a year before it got too bad to continue--lost like 15 pounds--but she rallied. But then, you grieve for, like, ever! You know it's going to happen, but when?

There's no good way to go, I guess (although the easiest for us by far was the aforementioned cat who went to sleep on the register, wrapped in a blanket, and died, at age 19,) but there could be something to be said for never having had to suffer--and it sounds like Ginger and Xena went easily and in the prime of life.

This is getting bad. I should be at my son's soccer game! Agh!

Please know, as inane and stupid as I may be, I really do feel for you. We get stupid when there are no words, I guess.

Take care,
Cindy