My Beautiful Audrey Options

[Little Miss Audr...]

I'd like to thank everyone in this forum for all of their posts. I've been reading for several days and I think I can finally tell my story about my little black and white cat, Audrey.

Audrey passed on Christmas morning. She had lymphoma in her heart and her kidneys had shut down. It was a terrible shock, as I didn't know she was so sick until the tests came back at the emergency clinic. She had stopped eating on Christmas Eve and was acting strangely. I didn't want to wait until after the weekend to help her. Six months before she had gotten a clean bill of health from her regular vet, so her condition must have come on quickly. She was only 9 years old. My husband and I made the decision to euthanize her rather than watch her decline and suffer. But, like one of the other folks here said about euthanasia, I felt like I killed her. When I saw her relax with the sedative, I wanted to tell the vet to stop, that this wasn't necessary, that the tests were wrong, that I loved her too much, anything to stop it.

All I could say the whole way home was, "I want my cat back." When I came in to my now cat-less house, I felt sure she would materialize there. When I look at the places where she used to sleep, I almost see her there before I realize again that she's gone. Every new realization brings on such pain. To top it off, I have loved ones in my life who want me to get over it - "it was just a cat, after all." My husband is very supportive, but I think he is baffled by the extreme grief I'm showing. He loved Audrey, too, but he's dealing with it differently.

I think that reading everyone's posts has helped me understand more about the grief I'm feeling, but I feel like it's tearing me apart. I sit and stare aimlessly, or I sob uncontrollably - my two options these days.

Thanks so much for reading.

[Little Miss Audr...]

Thank you all for your kind words and support. I've been very busy with a new, unfortunately ill, cat companion, and it's been a while since I've been able to log on, but I've read every reply and this place is truly wonderful with your support. My husband quietly mentioned the other day that he is missing our little Audrey. I asked him how he felt. He said he was grieving for her, just like me, but that he felt like he had to support me more than himself. Oh, boy. I don't want him to stifle his own emotions for me, but I don't know how to convince him of that. Of course, that conversation had to bring on more tears, more emotions, and I think I upset him some. It seems like the tears don't ever end, and I keep seeing Audrey at her last moments. It's worst at night when I try to sleep, like now. I see her relax and I see her go. I can't seem to remember any other times yet, but I hope beyond hope that they will come. She always used to interrupt me whenever I tried to read a book or stitch canvas. I'd be sitting in my chair watching TV and she'd be across the room. I'd whip out the book or the canvas and she would just be there, in my lap, pushing it out of the way in favor of her. I keep trying to picture what that was like, and how much I'd laugh, but it seems to be a distant memory now. I have a picture of her as my wallpaper, and every time I turn the computer on I try to remember her from the picture, but it doesn't work and I just cry more. I think the hardest thing so far is that I keep thinking of the Christmas carols that were playing on the overhead speakers when she died. It was quiet, beautiful music but it just echoes empty in my mind over and over again. I don't know if I can ever listen to those songs again. I've taken your advice and told some of my relatives that think she was "just a cat" that I think of her as much more. Some of them are more sympathetic, some aren't, but I think it helped me to tell them, anyway. Anyhow, I'm still here. Thanks again for reading, and for your kind support. (I'll post about my new dear one in the illness area, I guess.)