I miss u mouses...

Tomorrow you will have been gone for 8 months. When I first joined this site I remember reading other pet memorials. As the months went on, the memorials got shorter and shorter. With tear filled eyes I could see the light at the end of the dark tunnel. There was such a difference between the first posts and the 7, 8, 9...month posts. I often use to think it was sad too, like maybe some people really did move on. I didn't want to move on, not yet anyway. Many had new pets and were enjoying life again. I had just lost you, it seemed impossible. My baby gone....FOREVER. I couldn't breathe. I did not want to live one single day without you. Death had found us, and I was so angry. I lost my best friend. I lost my happy place. How was I to face this world without you? I continued to read those posts, and hung on every word. Pages and pages of people who lost a bond as strong as ours.

When I first went to write today I was going to write a simple, "I love you Mouses." I paused at the blank screen, and remembered what I had thought of people like me at the beginning. I was now them, but I realized something. We aren't writing so little because we love or miss you all any less. We didn't forget you. From my point of view, I have decided we write less because we have been defeated. Death won. I don't quite call it acceptance. I accepted your death a long, long, time ago. I call it surrendering. Surrendering to death. I wrote before about how exhausted I am. I am exhausted Mouses. I have cried endless tears, lost too much weight, lost too much sleep, and have been trying to save you for the last 8 months. I can't save you. I can't bring you in sooner. I can't do anything. I have said, thought, and wrote every single thing there is to say. I can't change one single thing. I lost you. I really lost you. I stand alone in a big world without you. I wish you didn't have to go, but you did. I wasn't done, but somebody else decided I was. I guess that's why it hurts so much. I didn't just lose you (which alone is awful enough). I lost my closure with you. Where is our long goodbye that I assumed we would have? Why my soul kitty? Why out of all my cats, did you have to have the sudden ending?

I love you Mouses. I miss you. I have been through all the stages of grief. I am now left with just missing you. I finally learned to be happy for you. I am glad your tummy no longer hurts. I am glad you can breathe again. I am happy your legs aren't collapsing on you anymore (you looked so confused). My kitty, my baby, I wish there was another way to ease your pain, but there wasn't. When I hug Buddy it is for you sometimes, can you feel it? You have passed the baton. Your job of emotionally supporting me is now over. Did you send him to me? Did you die to save his life? You knew I would be the person to bring him back to life. He is very happy now, he is no longer hurting. I would rather have you, but he is a wonderful substitute for you. I sometimes feel like he now shares his body with your soul. He has brought back so much of what I missed about you. He sounds like you, looks like you, and now acts like you. He hounds the pantry like you. He runs around spastically like you (and hops around like a bunny). He is food and water obsessed. He wakes me up in the morning. He sits behind me while I type (he is behind me right now...exactly where you would have been). He gives me that stare, like I am supposed to read his mind. He is a chicken like you were. Like you, he flies through the house when he hears the dishes make that sound, or when a can is opened. Best of all (like you) he follows me everywhere. I miss you by my side. When you died I felt like a part of my body was missing. I had lost my shadow. Buddy has brought it back to me.

I will never be over the loss of you. I will never forget you. You are very, very close to my heart. I love you my sweetheart, always and forever. Goodbye my Mouses. I love you. I miss my old life...I really do.

8 months closer to seeing that face...

Your post brought tears to my eyes. I lost 2 cats this year, and I know they are gone forever, but I still keep thinking I will see them stroll around the corner. They never do. I have 2 new cats, but it's not the same. I miss the old guys, I wish they could come back, but I know they never will, so I will really need to let them go. But I still can't do it. I want them back. Even though I knew they were sick at the end, and couldn't go on.

May we remember them forever.

I also began to cry as I read your post. Your thoughts on how people's posts get smaller and smaller is how I have felt about myself as well. It has been one month today that Frasier passed away and the other day I left the house in the morning without kissing his picture goodbye. How could I have gotten to that point so soon? The pain and the ache is still there but I think we get to the point where we have to stop the pain and tears from welling up inside us so that we can keep moving on(even though we'd rather stay). I have cried so many tears for Frasier and am devastated at the impact his being gone has had on me. I feared for so long about the day my first baby would go but I never thought about the aftermath. I only considered the dying process and the death itself. I wasn't prepared for what came next.
Anyway, my point was that for me, at least, the time I allow myself to devote to just grieving for him and giving in to that pain is less now because I realize that no matter how much I let myself hurt, it's not bringing him back. Twice this weekend Frasier's brother, Niles, has appeared in a room when I didn't expect him and for a 1/2 a second I thought it was Frasier. As much as I love Niles with all my heart, the disappointment when I realize he's not Frasier is so great.
My thoughts go out to you. And I know you already know this but you're not alone.
-Donna

Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I am sorry you lost both of your babies this year. Life just doesn't seem fair sometimes. I hope it brings you some comfort knowing they're together again. I kept thinking I'd see Mouses appear on the bed again, be waiting by her water dish again, and hear her talking away again. Then I moved. I am still not sure if this is a good thing or not. It was a little more painful living in her/our home, but I still think I would rather be in her home. Even though I knew she would never appear, I still liked looking at where she always was. Forever cherish those areas they used to be in.

You will let them go when you are ready. Don't rush it. One day it will just happen. It's really, really hard, letting go of the best part of our lives. We will always miss our old life. We just have to treasure that happy time, and not be afraid to fill our lives with love again. It doesn't mean we love them less, or miss them less. It is a very stuck feeling. The two choices we are left with after they leave us are not great. We can travel through life depressed, or we can try and make the best of the time we have left here. Even when I accept it, even when I surrender, I still feel unsettled. I will never feel the same. We will be happy again, but we will never be the same.

They live in our hearts. We will never forget them. I'm sure you've experienced seeing family that you haven't seen in awhile. When you see them it is like no time has past. We will greet our babies one day, and it will be like no time has passed at all. For now, our new babies deserve a piece of our heart. Even if for now, it is just a small piece.

Take Care, Chris

Donna,

I wasn't prepared for what came next either. I always feared Mouses death. I always hoped it would happen when she was 20, so I could at least fall back on that. I could have then always said, "she couldn't live forever." I wouldn't of had to dwell on all of the medical details, because she would've had to of died from something. I was unprepared for a sudden ending. I never walked around in my world and pictured her not being in it. I pictured the horror of her dying one day, I knew I would lose it when she died, but I never pictured her not being in my world. As far as I knew she was yound and healthy, I had no reason to not picture her in my current life. Mouses died about 3 weeks after the new year started. Never in my life did I think 2009 didn't include her...it didn't even come close. Such a sad time to lose someone you love. What happened to my great year that was supposed to be ahead of me?

That is why I hate the unexpected ending thing. I wish I could have walked around in my daily life knowing soon she wouldn't be in it. For at least a month even, I wish I could have gone to our regular places (grocery store, preschool, parks, Petco, etc.), and look around at them knowing Mouses soon wouldn't be a part of all of this. I wish I could have made the choice to stay home with her instead, only going out for necessary things. Instead I was living in La La Land as happy as can be, and then poof she was gone. I hate realizing that the last time I was at those places I had no idea the next time I would return, my favorite cat would be gone. I can't stand that that happened. I hate that I was just chit chatting away happily with my friends at my daughters preschool on Friday, and by Monday Mouses was gone. Returning to that school was so devastating. I keep seeing myself there so happy, clueless about what the weekend would bring.

I am glad you are able to not dwell in the sorrow as much. It really doesn't accomplish anything. It's like my grief therapist said, "you have to choose to not dwell in the sorrow." Of course that is easier said than done. I am glad you are able to make that choice. I think we are meant to walk out that door one day without kissing their picture. Until now, I just kept fighting against all of the natural healthy protective mechanisms we all have. The guilt that comes with being happy again, just pulls us back into sorrowland. Life moves on...it just feels so sad to move on. It is like I just said to jasonsmom, we are left with 2 choices. We can go through the rest of our life happy, or depressed, either way they are not coming back. I surrendered. I am pushing away the sadness. I just wish I didn't have to feel so unsettled. I'm not really sad or happy, I just feel weird now.

Forever sharing your pain. Chris (Mouses mommy)

When your soul kitty goes it takes a long long time to heal. It wouldn't have made it easier if she'd died in her sleep at 20 or met a more sudden end prematurely. Hobbes was past 20 and we knew it was coming for about 3 months. My heart still broke..palpably...I felt sore in the chestal area. Scar tissue forms tho and while the wound never goes away it feels a bit numb now.


I've gone just over 6 months without Hobbes and I'm still feeling sad and sore too...but I'm not as sad and sore as I was 6 months ago. I can't come here tho too much because I have to stop dwelling with the sorrow.

I already had 2 other cats and they are delightful creatures who love spending time with me and that have moved in to fill Hobbes' void. I think they wanted to anyway but out of respect for the Hobbsey they backed off.

Yeah...I'd like my kitty back though.

There will always be that scar on your heart from this that will not heal completely. I think the best we can hope for is to accept the grief and work through it. I still grieve for those I lost years ago. What makes it better is knowing they are not suffering any more. We never forget our loved ones who are gone. We just learn to bear the weight of the pain in such a way that it can be dealt with. That is what people mean by the lessening of grief. Life goes on whether we want it to or not. We share our love with new furkids and learn from each of them. Our love for those we lost remains but is transformed into healthier channels.

Ken Albin

i too cried as i read your sweet letter to your soulkitty. your words were so beautiful and epxress exactly what we all feel. i love what ken said. i couldnt agree more. My heart is so scarred. i imagine it to be taped up, tied up and just barely beating sometimes because it hurts so much. but we do go on, whether we want to or not and we do share the love we have with our new furbabies. there was a time when i just didnt care what happened to me. the pain was so intense, but as i look back on it now, im so glad ive made it. not a day goes by that i dont miss my fred and riley and all my other babies but having lucy has brought back the life into this torn, beaten up heart of mine. we all move forward, one baby step at a time and we remember our loved ones with smiles instead of tears. but forgotten? never!!!
i pray that all of our hearts continue to heal.
patricia

Well said, Mouses' mommy. Well said.

I miss my old life too.

Dearest Chris, I read your post yesterday and tried so hard to find the words to express what I want to tell you. I couldn't find the words. I am so sorry! Please, believe me when I tell you that I know, truly know, the gut wrenching pain, grief, loneliness and devastation you are experiencing. Oh, how I wish none of us could feel the way we do. It's gawd awful! And, no one can tell you when you'll even begin to feel better because it's different for each one of us.

Two years has passed as of October 14th through 16th since my loss took place and I still cry practically every day. But, I must admit that I am much better. Just taking a really long time perhaps due to the circumstances of my Rainbow Baby's abduction? I don't know. There's a lot that I just do not know. One thing I do know is your feelings of loss, despair and agony. If only it were possible, I'd wave my magic wand and make those feelings go away from you as well as each and every one of us. Alas, I can't do that. However, I can express myself to you using images I've created and a song that's very fitting.

I did gift this to my baby boy, but using different images and different video. These images, I made for this post beginning yesterday and finished today. There's Mufasa Lion King Cat up in Heaven looking joyfully down as he watches his son Simba growing. See Simba lion cat in the walking animation as he grows from a baby all the way to adulthood along with his friends. His dad Mufasa is so very happy because he knows that he lives on in his son Simba. The Lion King Cat knows he lives on in all the hearts and souls of those he's touched and they live on in all the hearts and souls they touch. And, it's never ending. Infinite. Eternal. Fact. Such is one form of the Circle of Life.

Like part of this song goes, "Some of us fall by the wayside and some of us soar to the Stars. And some of us sail though our troubles. And some have to live with the scars." Dear One, I hope and pray with all my being that you and everyone who has suffered such a loss will most definitely not have to live with the scars.

Chris, may one day, the wonderful memories you have of your precious Angel fur baby Mouses be lovely, beautiful and comforting instead of only serving as hurtful reminders of your loss. Please know you're in my thoughts and prayers as I wing many loving Angels to soothe and gently guide you through this most difficult time in your life. I Wish You Peace!!!

Thanks for your response. I am sorry you lost your soul kitty too. You are so lucky to of had Hobbes past the age of 20. I know if Mouses died at the age of 20, I'd still be intensely heartbroken (if not more), but I still think there is an extra level of peace that comes with pets that die of old age. For me, my cats that died at 16+ just felt easier to accept. At 16+ I knew they couldn't live forever, and that they would've had to of died from something. I didn't second guess all of my moves with my older pets. Mouses dying at the age of 12 is painful for me (luckily this site has shown me 12 is a very common death age amongst cats). I think you may have a little extra peace with knowing Hobbes lived such a full life...but maybe that is traded for a deeper loss??? My love for Mouses grew deeper every year. I still can't help but be jealous of you. If Mouses lived to 20, my children would be 12 and 10, instead of 4 and 2. I would still take that any day. From my point of view you've had the dream, I've yet to reach...

My heart goes out to you. What a loss you've experienced. A 20+ year old soul kitty, must be a very, very huge loss.
((((HUGS))) Chris

Dear Ken,

I have never written to you, but I think of you often. I truely admire, and am amazed at how well you don't dwell in the sorrow. You never seem to second guess anything. You are able to put all of your love and energy into remembering your babies with smiles. I have seen your website. I think it is wonderful what you and your wife do for all of those kitty's. I would love to have a house full of unwanted cats, one day...

The scar is permanent that is for sure. I am sorry for all of your losses. I wish Cancer hadn't taken our babies away from us. I imagine you could tell me getting to treat the masses, wouldn't have gotten us very far? I hope that is true. It is hard to read the success stories. I want to be the success story. I didn't even get to try, that will always sting a little bit. It's like I tell others, I can only hope this was better for her. It is the only thought that gets me through the day.

Chris
P.S Your cats live to good ages...what do you feed them?

I pray that all of our hearts continue to heal as well. I like your words. These days I am finding myself on a downward spiral. I am stuck in a countdown to Mouses death (Jan 25th). I remember her so much last Fall. I think of the Fall, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, the New Year, and everything in between. I still can't believe she was sick that whole time. I was just living my happy life, and her death was around the corner. I wish I was just thinking back on her life in a good way. I've been looking at pictures of her, I keep wondering if she was sick yet. I keep wondering what she felt like last Halloween.

Today is a hard day for me. Since Mouses died, a picture of her sits by my bedside. I look at it all throughout the day. It is dated 10/21/08. I remember this day so well. My son was taking a nap, we had just gotten a new digital camera so I took some close-ups of Mouses. I kept thinking about my cats of the past. I had pictures of them, but none of them were close-up. I would try to look at them in their photos, but never felt like I could "feel" them. I wanted a picture of Mouses I could "feel." I took lots of pictures of Mouses that day. I kept 3 and deleted the rest. I sure wish I would have kept them all. Anyway...it is so hard to look at that picture today. I was taking that picture to have something to remember her by. I put the camera away thinking, "I'm going to get some really good close-ups of her over the next few years, so I can really "see" her when she goes." Three months later she was gone. I never took any other close-ups. While I am grateful for those (she is so real and clear in those photos), it creeps me out a little to know the end was just around-the-corner of that day.

It was such a nice day. I can feel the moment. It is a nice memory. For now, it is a little overshadowed by her death and all of the changes. This time last year I had no idea a year from then I would be living in our new house without her, and I would have a new cat. On this day last year, I would have no idea I would have a new cat for 3 whole months and she would be gone for 9 months. Although the new boy eases the pain, I sometimes feel so guilty for how fast I got a new cat. Sometimes I wish I had just stayed alone for awhile.

I hope your broken heart continues to heal. Chris
P.S. I am glad your still on here, sometimes I feel like I'm almost the only one on here from before. This year is just too hard to go through alone. Thanks for listening.

Dear Dottie,

I've always said I could deal with death, I cannot deal with missing... My heart goes out to you as you pass another anniversary date without Alex. I have one cat in my life that went missing, and it is a very hard thing to let go of. With death we have the peace of knowing they are well cared for. I've always wondered what that little kitty went through. It is so hard not to be there for them in their time of need. I feel your pain. I am so sorry for your loss.

Thanks for taking the time to post such wonderful images for all of us. Your post was so appropriately picked for me. That is the song that was played at my Father's funeral (picked by my sister). I almost feel as though he was speaking to me. Thanks for having such a big heart and taking the time to help all of us, especially when you have your own loss to deal with.

Take care, Chris

I hear what you're saying there, Chris. I had a kitty that my "evil" late husband Simon put out of the house when I was in Mena, Arkansas. Oh, not to be mistaken for my last late husband Kenny who was the most wonderful man in the world. Word. Anyway, Simon knew there was danger out there and cougars had gotten his ex-wife's kitty. I had such vivid dreams about finding Srini kitty. Also, I'd put out an ad, flyers and a Vet called me (not a dream) to tell me someone had found a Siamese kitty, they were rare in those parts, and he felt it was my Srinigar. Srini is the kitty I had before Cocoa Siamese kitty. Also, I had Srini for a while before having married Simon.

Anyway, I asked the vet several questions and the Siamese kitty brought to him had claws whereas I'd had Srini kitty's claws removed. Then, another time, Simon either gave away or most likely sold my two Sun Conure parrots. Did it while I was away at work. They were so friendly, sweet, playful, loving and affectionate. Well, they were to me and I adored them. Unfortunately, they hated Simon. Goes to show they had good taste. Simon just did his evil laugh and refused to tell me where they were as I cried and begged him.

I always wondered what happened to Srini kitty and my two Sun Conures. Karma got Simon but good and proper. Hey, I do believe in Karma. Shame on him for treating me and others so brutally.

I've lost many pets and other animals with I've treated, but did have closure knowing what happened. Yes, I cried a bit for some and was so relieved for the others knowing they were no longer suffering. So, I do know what you're talking about.

How nice that I chose that song and those images as it reminded you of your Dad's send off and it was as though he was speaking to you. Hugs!

Hey, I'm gonna be okay. It's just going to take a while since Alex was so "human" in so very, very many ways. Thank you very much for your well wishes. Big Hugs!!!

Always,
Dottie xoxoxox

Hi sweetheart,

I knew this weekend was your 9 month anniversary, but what I didn't realize until just now is that the dates and days match up (adding a little extra pain to this anniversary). It is exactly 2:00 right now, on a Friday the 23rd. Your appointment was on Friday, January 23rd at 2:00. I am thinking about you and that day a lot right now. I still can't believe how clueless I was. You would be gone by Sunday. I never would have guessed it, they were suppose to tell me it was nothing, and send us home. It wasn't nothing was it.

I miss you so much. It feels like yesterday, and yet it feels like forever. I guess that is the way it will always feel. In a few minutes (on that day in January), I would learn you have multiple masses, are dehydrated, and have a low temp. You wouldn't be coming home with me. I would go to bed for the first time without you in 4 years. I had only spent a total of 14 days without you in your entire lifetime. I thought it would be the worst night ever, I didn't know it would soon be permanent. I had so much hope that night. I really just didn't get it. I can remember now the vet tech said, "did you get a good chance to say your goodbyes?" I now get why she said that. She knew you may not live through the night, I did not.

Tomorrow will be Saturday, October 24th. 9 months ago it was Saturday, January 24th. I couldn't wait to hear how your surgery went to remove the masses. They never call us. We call them. You didn't stabilize for surgery. I was worried about you in surgery, and you weren't even there. You were in a small cage fighting to survive the day. They said you would perk up, and then crash, but your temp kept falling. You were losing that light in your eyes. Where did you go? Tomorrow 9 months ago, would be the day I take you home before we head to the E-vets. I take some pictures of you in case you never come home again. You look so different. What happened to you in one night? From Friday to Saturday I can't believe how much you changed.

We head to the E-vet only to find out your dying. Your case was too complicated. The vet kept saying had you not had all three things they could probably save you. If you just had masses, or if you just had a low temp, or if you just had diabetes. She said with your age, you wouldn't survive all three. You were not in organ failure yet, but you would be soon. She didn't think you would make it through the night. You had labored breathing, and could care less that I was there. I felt so bad for you. I wanted to save you Mouse. I wanted them to put you back together. It didn't seem possible. I didn't want to leave you alone, you just looked like you wanted to go. We took you home to die.

Tommorow night 9 months ago, would be one of the worst nights of my life. You were in pain and restless, and had trouble breathing. I felt so guilty for not putting you to the sleep at the E-vets, but I always promised you, you would die at home on our bed. The hard part was, I don't think you really cared anymore. I debated all night about bringing you back. The at-home-vets wouldn't be available until late Sunday morning or afternoon. I just found all of this out, I was still in shock. Please forgive me for taking you home. I wasn't ready to let you go. I just wanted you home. I just wanted you on our bed. Your pain medicine kicked in and the restlessness calmed down. I had three hours to lay by you and pet you. Those would be the last almost normal moments we would ever have. I am so grateful for those hours. It was all I had to absorb this. I am grateful I got to thank you for being so wonderful. I am grateful I got to apologize to you in person for not taking better care of you. I am still so sorry I missed it. I am grateful you didn't die alone, Friday night. I am grateful, I got to tell you I love you a hundred times, and tell you how much I would miss you. I was dying on the inside, but I would not let you know it. My angel, I love you so...

I stayed up with you the whole night. Around 6 am I let you lay alone in the hall. I let you go to the kitchen alone as well. I wanted to be by you more than anything, but more than that I wanted you to go on your own. I had never seen a cat euthanized before, and I didn't want to see it with you. Not you. Why you? Why my favorite one? I know some people see it as the last gift, but I have never had so much trouble with the loss of my cats before. Is this why? I saw it stung you. I am sorry. By 1:19pm on Sunday the 25th you were gone. This Sunday the 25th at 12:45 (when the lady arrived), will be too much to bare. I hate the weekend. I hate every single weekend.

I am a mess without you. Why can't I get better. Why have so many moved on? I love you so much. I keep seeing you that last two weeks of your life. I wish I knew. I really wish I knew you were leaving me Mouse. I know not all endings come wrapped in a pretty bow, but I wish we at least had that. I see you in those moments, and I just want to stop what I am doing (then) and go hug you. Thank God I never left you on the couch at night. I am a better-safe-than-sorry person, I always brought you to bed with me, just in case... Sometimes you would look so happy and cozy on the couch, I'd almost leave you, but than I'd think "what if?" For your whole life I brought you to bed, so I would never have to wake up to find you gone, and regret not bringing you to bed. I always hugged and pet you before we left the house, just in case I never returned or you were gone. I am always aware of making a good last memory. I always stop for one more hug, look, or petting. I should feel complete, I really should. So why don't I? I was beyond nice to you, and always with you. I should feel good about that. I don't have a lot of regrets in that department. I mostly just hate that I didn't get to treat you. I want to treat you, then lose the battle.

What else can I say. I am lost without you. I even have the gift of a great substitute for you, but I am still not happy. He really is so great. He is you. Same, same, but different. He has given me everything I miss about you back (except he sleeps at my side or feet, not my head). I am not void of your sound, your action, or your look, but he is not you. I miss my sweet little girl. You are still my favorite thing in this whole world. You have my heart. You have it forever.

I can deal with you being gone...I knew you couldn't live forever. I just can't get over the sudden ending thing, and your age. I guess 12 isn't as young as I thought, but I sure wish you were older.

9 months closer...I love you...I love you...I love you...
Your twin is meowing behind me...I better go. Oh, he finally jumped on the bed while I was making it. It had been 8 months...I missed it so. (New picture is your twin...he sits guarding the top of the stairs, just like you would).

I know you wrote this to your sweet Mouses but I had to respond to you. Although many of the details are different, your letter made me feel like I wrote it to my Frasier. I sympathize with your deep pain. But what touched me most was you saying how you work hard to make a good last memory. Your description of what you used to do reminds me so much of myself. I sometimes feel like I'm living in the process of the end. Does that make any sense? I'm always worried that "this could be the last time" for whatever it is that is going on. For so long I've dreaded the days that I lose my 3 babies. I've mourned them long before it was time. I think I even had myself fooled into thinking that I was preparing myself in some way. While Frasier was sick this year I just kept obsessing over his actual death, the final moments, how it would take place, and how awful it would be for me. After he died, though, I found out I wasn't prepared at all for what was to come. I had been so worried about one of them dying that I never thought about one of them being gone. I can't believe after all my worry, I hadn't contemplated the awful lingering pain and emptiness. I said so many times that I could deal with him being gone but I just couldn't deal with the process of dying. Was I ever wrong!
Anyway, I'm sorry you're still hurting so much. I hope that you will find peace for yourself. Just know, I really do understand how you feel.
-Donna

"Simon just did his evil laugh..."

Dottie, you answered a question that I have been asking myself for the last four months. How is it possible that I loved and cared for my 3&1/2 lb. Chihuahua far more than most people I know? Bitsy meant so much to me, and I will never get over having to have her put to sleep. You pegged it with your referring to Simon as "evil"! Humans are inherently flawed creatures. So many of us do give way to evil, but animals never do! Even though animals sometimes hurt humans, they do it out of instinct, whether in self-preservation or in trying to fulfill what they think to be their master's desire. I think that humans have incomplete, flawed souls, and that is why we love our pets so much...they provide something to us that fulfills us, that completes that part of us that is lacking, that teaches us the true meaning of loyalty, of love. I don't see where someone who cannot love animals can in anyway love other humans! I know this is rambling, I can't truly express to anyone the depths of feeling I hold for my little girl, any more than I can truly comprehend what you feel over your own losses. We humans just don't have the same empathy that our pets seem to have by their very nature. All we can do is try in our limited way to reach out to each other, and support each other the best we can.

Andy

Tomorrow is Halloween...Happy Halloween Mouses! I am missing you today. I have been looking at pictures of you from last Halloween. There you are sitting on your couch, always waiting for us to come back home. We took pictures of the kids wearing their Halloween costumes on your couch, so you could be a part of the Halloween memories. You just loved when something was going on. You were always very interested in the commotion of the holidays. We have some video too. I wish you were in it. Daddy filmed the kids and I was nowhere to be seen. I was in the bedroom with you...of course. It is still nice to watch it, and picture myself in the bedroom saying hi to you.

Most likely you were sick in those photos. I still can't believe it! Did you have it for that long? Last year this time we went trick-or-treating around our soon-to-be neighborhood. I pictured you in that house on the next year's Halloween. We ended up buying a different house, and now your not here. I am living in a different house with a new brown tabby. How did this happen? I drove by that house the other day. Daydreaming that it went the way I thought it would go. I drove by our old house too. I know I need to stop, but for this first year without you, I need to live in the past (just a little bit). Your slipping away. Soon I won't be able to say, "this time last year..."

I love you my baby. I miss you. I will be thinking of you tomorrow night. You should be here celebrating our first Halloween in the new house with us. When trick-or-treating is done, it will pain me, to walk in that door and not find you waiting for us on the couch.

I'll be missing you....

Here it comes...I can barely breathe.

Your one year anniversary is just around the corner. I will forever hate January. This time last year would be my last "normal" weekend with you. I would have no idea, I would be putting you to sleep on the following weekend. I remember it all so clearly, it is like I am watching a video of it. I had never been gone so much in one weekend. It was a three day weekend.
On a 3 day weekend, Daddy and I normally give eachother a full day off. I would usually spend most of the day with you (watching movies with you at my side). It is still hard to swallow that that weekend, of all weekends would go differently. I went driving around looking at more houses on Sat. I went to Jenn's house on Sat. night. Sunday, we went shopping all day, and ate out. Monday, I watched the kids, while Daddy worked from home. Sadly, that kept me away from you. Normally, on a Monday I would visit you on the bed several times. During ****** nap I would often nap by you, or I would be petting you while you looked out your window to watch the squirrels. I fed them on the patio, so you could have something to watch. You loved to look outside, but I only let you out once in your whole life...always so afraid to lose you early.
(Last year) Monday, MLK day. A day I will never forget. I was making the kids lunch. You always come out of your room when you hear food is being prepared. I can see this so clearly. I was cutting up fruits and veggies for the kids, when you came by your water and meowed and meowed. You stared at your water, but wouldn't drink it. You meowed more and more, very loud, very unlike you. Frustrated, by your loud meowing, I brought you to our bed. I was just about to lay you gently by your pillow, when you weirdly fell out of my arms. From waist high to the floor you would fall. I instantly thought something was wrong, and wanted to run you to the E-vet. Daddy told me I was being my usual worried self, and that a fall that small/short for a cat was nothing.
I laid you on the bed, I checked you for pain ( I can see you Mouse, like it was today). You seem fine, you go eat. You go back to your pillow spot. 2 hours later I would take M to playland (something I also never did), we would be gone for hours. I missed you. I missed your whole last "real" weekend.
Monday night. My last favorite memory. I missed you so much that weekend, so I curl up in bed with you, and watched a movie with you. My last movie with you Mouse. I ate cookies, and pet you, and sat there all oblivious. I still can't believe that. I can still feel the moment. I remember the lighting, and the temperature. I can feel petting you. How did I not know? I would go to bed with you at my left side, and kiss you on the head. I would whisper, "I love you!" I would tell you to stay mushy ushy gushy and warm, because it means your alive.
I would continue to watch for signs of anything all week. I still can't believe I kept you home all week. Daddy kept telling me there was nothing wrong with you....I guess I really wanted to believe him. Everyday I wanted to bring you, and every day I didn't. You were so unbelievably normal. Your routine unchanged. You did everything the same. You laid above my head every morning, same as every other day of our life. You were the same. You slept with me every night. You were the same. You played with my hand under the sheets like a young cat on Wednesday. I brushed you, and you purred and rolled around and loved it, as usual. I just don't get it.
Then I noticed you weren't eating, and on Thursday you fell again. I think we will be rushing you in, and the lady makes you an appt. for Saturday. Saturday? I didn't know then, but I now know, a 12 1/2 year old cat has hind leg weakness, and stops eating is an emergency. Why didn't she, it's textbook. It seems so obvious now. I decide not to wait and take you Friday.
Friday, I hear the worst news of my life. You are dehydrated, your temp is 92, and you have an abdominal mass, and intestinal haziness (indicative of intestinal masses). I am in shock. I hear nothing after the word masses. I leave you there to receive fluids, and get you stable for exploratory surgery. The pillow above my head would be empty for the first time in forever. I've been away from you for probably 20 days or less in our whole life. I just want you home. I just want everything to go back to normal. I already missed "normal" and you weren't even gone yet.
So ready to fight this. You were going to go to surgery. They were going to get most of it out, and we would start chemo. I didn't really think anything else. Saturday, my heart would sink. Bloodwork shows you are diabetic, and you have elevated kidney and liver values. They now think you have Pancreatic Cancer. Surgery and Chemo do not work on Pancreatic Cancer. We take you to another vet, for another opinion. We take you home to die.
Saturday night, I would spend my last night with you. I have pictures of that night. I clearly remember that night. It just doesn't seem real. It always feels like a mistake. I know now this is a classic death scenario for cats. I know now, they hide it that well. I now know, they often stop eating and drinking and are gone in days. I didn't know that then. I knew, what I knew. I knew that everything I brought you in for ALWAYS turned out to be nothing. Even though scared out of my mind, part of me thought they would send us home as usual. They didn't.
By Sunday you are gone. Nothing was worse then the first minute I spent without you. Watching the clock tick on without you, while you lay on our bed gone. GONE!!!

Your gone my girl. Your really gone. I don't want to go through these days. I want to go to sleep and wake up in February. I don't want to feel how long the week is, and sit her without you, and wonder how in the hell I didn't take you sooner. They say it wouldn't have mattered, but it matters to me. I want to know I cared enough to bring you. Better safe than sorry. How could I be so stupid! Worst of all, you had been to the vets the May before your death. You were in perfect health. What happened Mouse? What happened? We were going to bring you in again, before the holidays. We then decided to wait until after the holidays. At the beginning of January I asked when we could take you. We were just about to. Just about to...would it have made a difference? You would have been stable for surgery. Would surgery have made a difference? The "what if's" still kill me.

I never even got to find out what you had. Pancreatic Cancer, I now have to hope. It is the only thing that excuses me from not bringing you in earlier. Pancreatic Cancer is a sure death sentence. Surgery and Chemo are not an option. Pancreatitis was brought up by someone. The thought of that, could make me die. It would have been severe, but much more worthy of intensive care. If I had you put to sleep, when it was just that and not Cancer, I'll have a heart attack. I'm so sorry I didn't do more. You wouldn't stabilize. They tried. Yours was found too late. So late, you probably should have died in your sleep. What did you have? It makes me crazy.

I will always hate our ending, but this site has shown me it is not all that unusual. That brings some comfort. I thought 12 was so young, this site has shown me it isn't that young afterall. That helps. I will always hate that I lost you suddenly. I will always hate that I didn't help you. I will always hate that I had to leave your home (although it is somewhat a blessing in disguise). I will always hate that I have no memory of you in this new house. It is still very hard to realize that you were never going to enter any of those houses we looked at. I was going to let you walk around the backyard. I never got to do that. I will always hate that I rushed last Christmas (we were so packed-up) it was the least special Christmas we ever had. If only I had known. I promised you next year would be special, do you remember that? Instead I filled a stocking, and bought presents for your look-a-like. I took so many pictures of him it was bordering on ridiculous. It was therapy I guess. I have about 10 pictures of you on Christmas last year, of me giving you your treats. I am thankful for those. They weren't by the tree though, just on the bed. Mostly I will always hate that I will never see cats the same way again, or people (lost a few friends over this...people are so disappointing). I am haunted by the losses on this site. My heart goes out to all of you.

I could go on forever. The rest I will leave for January 25th (a day I will also mourn the loss of myself...for I have never been the same). Mouses I love you...I love you...I love you. God please spare me the image of her dying on that bed over and over again. My heart can't take it anymore.