I Had To Let Her Go Options

[Golden327]

I had a rough night last night. I was doing my laundry, and I had my fleece from the night I took her to the vet. It was still covered in her hair, and I had wanted to get some of the hair off it to put in a frame before I washed it. So I was taking the hair off, and it got to me.I just started crying. I haven't cried in almost a week. Then I smelled the fleece, and there it was, my cat's smell. It was her. I couldn't bring myself to wash it. It was the last thing that I have to remind me of her. I have picture, but no actual physical evidence of her. I just can't do that yet. I know I will at some point, but just not yet.
Then last night, I had two dreams about her. The first one was she was still here, and for some reason we hadn't put her to sleep yet. And she started eating like normal. She was playing around and being goofy. But I didn't have a litter box or much food for her, because I had given it all to the humane society last week. So I didn't know what to do. Then the dream later was her just being there, and I got to hold her again and play with her. She layed on my chest and we snuggled like we used to. I somehow knew that her toxin levels were still too high for her to live much longer, but I didn't know what to do.
Was it a message from her? Telling me that she was back to her old playful self and she is ok? Or is it just my self conscious wishing she was back, not willing to let her go yet.
I'm not sure....

Kendra

[Ladypurr]

Dear Kendra,

First, permit me to add my thoughts to this loving bouquet the others have shared. I, too, grieve the loss of your precious Butterscotch. She sure is a beautiful girl. I loved the pictures you posted. I especially could feel how much you loved her in the way you posted some of your favorite experiences with her. Oh! cats are such enchanting, loving, entertaining creatures. Only a person who has never opened their heart to a cat could view them as indifferent.

Sweetie, all of us have experienced those disturbing, 'If I only I had done this, or that" thoughts. It is part of the grieving process and we all express ourselves and feel on different levels. Please know that there is no right or wrong way to grieve. It is not a "timed" process--you take as long as you need. There are times that I think of my special dearly departed felines and I laugh out loud envisioning their antics and our wonderful relationship together. Then, there are moments when tears well up in my eyes and I sob, missing them terribly and wanting so much to reach out and hug them and kiss them, and feel their soft fur and listen to their soothing purr. Yes, they have transitioned from the non-physical and I can feel their spirits, but it doesn't end my desire to have them with me again.

Minkie was my soulmate. I adopted him when he was two. The lady who had him before me became violently alergic to cats and tearfully turned him over to a fostering person.

I remember vividly the day I brought him home. He was part Siamese with the most beautiful blue eyes. I remember his distinct meow, the way he purred lying next to me in the mornings. His most endearing antic was sitting on the bathroom sink and lifting his right paw up to me to get my attention. He always looked so distinguished when he did that. I'd always melt in a ball of slush and grab him and kiss him and say Mink Man, my Mink Man! My roommate referred to him as Charles Laughton, after the distinguished old actor.

One day I noticed his coat was becoming dull and he seemed to be drinking lots of water. I didn't have the wealth of experience with cats then that I do now so I didn't realize that his kidneys were beginning to fail. Cats mask illness so well. I took him to my vet and they kept him over night. I wanted to see him the next morning but the vet's wife said that they were cleaning cages and had moved him and she said I could see him later. Well, I think about that still and realize that I should have demanded to see him because later that day, the vet said he was in complete kidney failure and there wasn't anything he could do. That vet had his clinic in his home and though he was a very compassionate and skilled vet, his operation was rather unorthadox and his kennels were not always in the neatest, cleanest condition I later learned. I took my Minkie home and was beside myself with fear and grief. I was desperate and ended up taking him to an emergency clinic to see if they could help him. They tried to get his bun levels down, but it was not to be. I went to see him the next day and he was on a respirator. I talked to the vet and he said he would go ahead and put him to sleep, but that Minkie may just make the decision himself to go once the respirator was removed. I kissed him and whispered softly to him, "Goodbye, my precious Mink Man! I will see you again; please be there for me!" And then he was gone!

I was in shock for days. I cried constantly. I buried him in our backyard and mourned his passing for weeks. Since Minkie's passing I've had to say "goodbye" to my Buddie,
Ladypuss, Hilary, Cassie, Tobie, Feather, Baker, Big Guy, Bloomers, Gus, Hanigan-Flanigan, Clyde Kelly, Bonnie Bell, Zane Seti, Sissy, Asha, Abigale and Patches. Some of them passed on quietly. Most of them we had to put to sleep. I was there with all of them. It is extremely difficult to hold a being that you love with all your heart and feel the life slowly ebb away. Having the ability to mercifully end a suffering animal's life is the kindest, most loving act that we can extend at that time. Animals do not fear death as we often do. They are at peace with their cir%%stances. They live in the moment and do not worry about time.

I believe with all my heart that we will see our dear animals again one day. God would indeed be a cruel, compasssionless being if He would create something as wonderful as a loving, devoted dog or cat, or any animal that we have shared a loving relationshp with, and then take it from us, never letting us see it again. To look into the eyes of your loving pet is to see their very soul. Yes, animals have souls.

Butterscotch shared a long and love-filled life with you. You are blessed (as was she) to have shared such a special relationship. You will see her again one day. She has simply traded in her old, tired body for a new "soaring" free spirit. You have all of her glorious memories. Those are yours forever!

Unless it really bothers you, you could simply put her litter box and other things in a place where they are not so conspicuous. You can always donate them to a shelter (or rescue group!) later. I'm sure the food would be very appreciated right away, however. If you feel that visiting a shelter and interacting with the animals there would help, by all means go. The animals will enjoy your affection immensely. Perhaps you could help foster some orphan kittens at some point in the future. That is indeed a wonderful way to give and receive love as you are helping to nurture and prepare these little balls of fur for their new "forever" homes.

Your boyfriend sounds like a truly special person. When someone knows how much you care and is as supportive as he is, that is a priceless quality. So often people are uncomfortable with their loved ones grieving and hurting so. Words can't take away your pain, but what we share with you here comes deep from our hearts. Only when a person has known the sting of pain can they reach out and comfort others.

Come here as often as you want. Share your thoughts. Nothing you say will be judged or thought odd. Expressing your deep feelings and crying is necessary. Only you know how much you love Butterscotch and how much you miss her presence. Don't worry about her welfare now, though. She is safe, happy, and completely free. She will be waiting for you one day when it's your time to "transition" to the non-physical. You will see her sweet, loving face again.

In the meantime, hold tight to her memories and know that we are here for you.

With deep love and sympathy,

--Susan
~ a voice for the voiceless ~