My Mo Mo, Lost my best friend Options

[osilover]

I am so upset, I feel like I have died.

Eight years ago, I was working ina pet store and a woman came in one day, saying that becasue she was moving, she was going to have her 1 yr old cat put down because "she couldn't have pets". I begged her to instead, give him to me. I had never seen this cat before, I only knew that he was white, and even with that description as my only basis, I knew I'd fall hopelessly in love with him. When I went to pick him up, he seemed very frightened, and I later found out that in his 1 year life span, he had already been through two owners, one of which was abusive. I spent many years coaxing him out from under beds, inside closets, and other hiding places. When he heard a knock on the door, he would hide in fear every time. This went on for some time, but I was determined to make him feel safe and happy. Eventually, he learned to trust that I would never harm him, and the personality that he developed was the most loving, most joyous one you ever could find. He was unlike any cat I'd ever known, desperately wanting to be held, putting his paws around your neck as if to hug you (has anyone else ever heard of a cat doing this?) rubbing his head under your chin. I have two other cats and a dog, but my Osiris (Momo) was my heart and soul.

Three days ago, I woke up and found him laying on his side. He was having trouble breathing, wheezing. I called my vet right away, and we rushed Osi over. Our vet took an Xray and saw that he had a bit of fluid in his lungs. He put Mo in an incubator, and he seemed to be breathing better. During that time, he showed us the Xrays - Mo's stomach looked big, like he hadn't digested his food from the night before. He said he was going to keep an eye on that. Mo stayed at the vet the whole day, and that night the vet said that because he wasn't on fluids at the moment, and because his breathing was slightly more normal (they cleared his lungs a bit), he could go home for the night and come right back in the morning for another Xray. That night we brought him home, I placed him in his favorite spot on the patio so he could feel the breeze and watch the birds and insects. I kept the other animals away from him so they wouldn't bother him. And when I went to sleep that night, I placed him in my bathroom with a baby gate so I could wake every hour and make sure that he was breathing. The next morning, I rushed him back to our vet. He did another xray, and Mo's stomach still looked big. This time, he could also make out a mass - he wasn't sure what it was. He put Mo back in his incubator and would take another x-ray in a few hours. Blood work seemed normal, his electrolites were low, so he was placed on fluids. That night, the vet said he thought Mo should stay due to the fluids. Another xray would be taken in the morning to see the stomach, but if everything was stil large, he would do an exploratory to see what was going on inside. He warned us that it could be cancer. I bent down at Mo's cage and kissed him and kissed him. I was afraid to let go of him, afraid to leave. My husband and I stayed until we aboslutely had to leave, and when our vet closed Mo's cage, he put his paw out for us to touch, as if he were reassuring us. The next day we woke very early and headed to the vet. We couldn't wait to see him. When we got there, our vet came out and said, "Did you get my message?" We hadn't, we'd already left the house. "Osiris died during the night." My world came to an end right there. I went in the back and saw his body - I was in shock. I didn't want to believe this had happened!

When my vet asked to do an autopsy, I waited to find out what had happened. Osi had, indeed, had cancer of his pancreas. He could no longer digest food (big stomach), and fluid had entered his lungs again. His whole body had just given up.

The worst part, or the best part, is that he never showed any signs of sickness until that day. He was jumping, playing, eating, everything. It was as if he didn't know he was sick, or he just didn't want us to know.

I feel terrible that my little Mo died by himself. I feel so badly, I want to die from the pain. He was only nine, and I feel like I was robbed, like he was robbed, out of many more years. I look everywhere in my house, and all I can see is him. I lift his little food bowl and hold it to my chest and break down, sobbing.

I almost wish I had known, but at the same time, if I had known, I would've tried anything to sacve him, and it might have cost him the quality of his life. I just wish I could turn back the clock to the night he was okay, and just hold him for a little while longer.

Is there anything at all to help this hurting and overwhleming guilt that I feel?

Thanks for listening.

Rachel