Shadow's Ashes Are Home

She's home. As I walked up to our front door with the urn in my arms, I thought of how she used to scramble excitedly in her carrier as I approached the door. She always knew she was home. She'd wiff and sniff and poke her paws thru the carrier door as if to say "Hurry up Mom! Open the door! Lemme out!"

She's come home one last and final time.

When I went thru the arrangements with the assistant at the Emergency Animal Clinic, I knew I wanted her cremated privately, but I had no idea what I would do to lay her to rest. Putting her outside just doesn't seem right. She was an indoor kitty entirely. She *HATED* to be outside.

Has anyone just kept their urn and not scattered the ashes? As humans, our rituals always seem to revolve around returning our loved ones to the earth. I kinda feel like I am denying her that final step. But she hated to be outside...

I'll keep them for now, to touch and hold. I may change my mind in the future, but at least for now... she is home.

Shadow On My Heart

My sweet 16 year old kitty Shadow is gone. She took her final breath in my arms at the Animal Emergency Clinic Sunday night. She was diabetic and had crashed into very severe seizures again. We'd been down this path before, but this time was much, much worse with possible permanent damage. She had also bitten her own tongue badly during the seizures.

She has been diabetic for 5 years and we did very well with 2 insulin needles daily, but really started to go downhill two years ago after her first crash. They found an enlarged thyroid, but the labs didn't support treating her for hyperthyroidism. They found crystals in her kidneys. She started peeing blood (hematuria). After stabilizing, the vet put her on Clavamox and she came home. She never ate. I stopped the Clavamox and syringe fed her Hill's science diet a/d for ten days. She rebound and came back. Months later she crashed again... her diabetes seemed to come and go. It came back, we put her on insulin again, but the drinking/peeing increased. This time it was more than diabetes. Her tummy swelled like a water balloon. We had pee red with blood all over the house. At this point she became so traumatized by pills that I could not get one into her. Needles were no problem, but pills... I almost took her valium myself. She would become terrified, hold her tongue up and spit or drool the pills out. Then she would hide from me for an entire day, only to come upstairs and be grabbed for another pill. It was no life for either of us.

She began toileting outside the litter boxes all the time, vomiting and spending less and less time with the family. She wouldn't jump up on my lap or chair, slept over her water dish and refused treats. She ate well otherwise, but her happiness seemed to have gone. The vet began talking about liver biopsies and more medications, and I said no. I said no... so I feel it's my fault.

The guilt now that she is gone is overwhelming. I'm doubting my decisions and feeling like I failed my baby girl. Should I have tried harder? Done more? Spent more? Searched for more answers? I know that she couldn't have been cured. But maybe we could have tried one more time. Part of me understands that she wasn't getting better, but worse, but then I shift back and forth with guilt.

I miss her so much. She was the soul of the house and the heart of our home. How can I get through the days without her little burrup meows she made when hungry? Or her whiffing sniffs in my ear? I can't stop crying. She was special. She really was. And I want her back.

~ Lisa