Hi everyone,
I googled and googled hoping to find a support forum just like this one. Thank you for being here!

Oscar was my boy. In 1992, I found him stuck in a shed when he was five weeks old and we bonded for life. He grew up with Molly and they were inseparable until her death in 2008. It's been just us two every since.

Our relationship lasted longer than my marriage, my first and second career and countless diets! He didn't care if I gained 20 lbs or lost 50. I was always his momma. When he was just a wee kitten, he would crawl up my leg, then over to my back and plop himself on my shoulder. He loved to hang over me and watch what I was doing, ususally the dishes. He was fascinated by the bubbles. Twenty years later, I would see the look in his eye and bend down so he could ride on my shoulder again. I would carry him everywhere and he'd just chill.

He had a few health scares over the years. He had radioactive iodine treatments for his hyperthyroidism and had the occasional crystal blockages.After a few times, he learned to come get me to watch him use the litterbox if he was having urinary issues or if something wasn't right. I learned his different meows and he learned to come when I called him. He was harness trained & he would bring me his leash in his little mouth and he would sit so very still while I did him up. He would have wagged his tail if he was a dog. We'd walk for hours, under bushes and in people's back yards. We got a few strange looks but we didn't care.

I have appreciated every moment spent with him, knowing that every day was a gift. We were a family of two. My decisions reflected what was best for both of us. When I moved, it was a home that was safe for Oscar and his sisters. When we had to travel across the country, I found hotels that allowed cats. When I bought a house, I made sure there was a huge picture window so he could lie in the sunshine.

Yesterday, after a few days of not being himself, he just lay down in the middle of the floor and sighed heavily. He wouldn't eat anything and I tried all his favourites. He loved to drink water (freshly poured please) but he had no desire for that either. After 20 wonderful years of friendship, I knew it was time.

In one respect, I feel such guilt for ending his life. In another, I'm glad he was spared the true horrors of end stage kidney failure.

He will always be my 'little sir', 'baby boy', 'bubba', and my 'boo'.

Thanks you for giving me a place to share this.

Caroline

I am so sorry. My precious Molly left me after 16 years last October. We had been through so much together. My sweet kyle left me after only two years this October. It is so hard.

Hi, Caroline, please permit me to add my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Oscar. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Euthanasia is the last gift of love we can give to our companions at great sacrifice to ourselves so that they can be restored to their former youthfulness in the company of the angels.

This grief journey is filled with many different emotions that can usually overwhelm us all at one time - - it is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride. Please let me try to offer you reassurance that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief - - very painful both emotionally and physically, yes - - still very normal. The decision to help our companions transition home to the angels is not an easy one to make, for it is very similar to ending life support for a human family member or friend who is terminally ill. Still, it is the most selfless act of love that we can give to our companions to free them from their failing, frail, physical bodies when we know beyond all shadow of a doubt that the time is appropriate.

But even with the comfort of this knowledge, we are still faced with enduring the most painful adjustment we will know on this side of eternity - - adjusting our daily lives and routines that no longer requires including the sweet precious physical presence of our companion. It is a very painful adjustment that will not reconcile in an hour, a day, a week, a month - - or even 6 months - - for it is an adjustment journey that is now filled with all the "first withouts" and the "this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year" and it can feel that with each treasured memory your heart breaks anew. It is an adjustment journey that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time in your own way and in your own time. And beginning this grief journey during the holidays can intensify our sorrow - - for what is supposed to be "the most wonderful time of the year" can instead feel like "the most horrible time of the year."

The good news is the midst of all this pain is that the love bond you and your beloved Oscar share is eternal - - it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. Your beloved Oscar's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as he always has and always will. He is always and forever a part of your heart and your memories, Caroline - - he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the seering pain of sorrow that is in your heart. I can only hope and pray that the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey. One of the many things you need to remember during your grief journey is that you are not alone. Each of us here do understand what you are going through, and we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

Thank you so much for sharing your beloved Oscar with us, Caroline. Perhaps sometime you would like to share a picture(s) of him with us - - but only when / if you want to. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Caroline, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I am so sorry for your loss. It's amazing how long we can live together. We are so attached an they are so attached to us. I comend you for doing the right thing even as hard as it is. I too chose to put my beloved Lucymae to sleep after 16 years. I promised her I would never let her suffer. I kept my promise to her as much as it hurt. It is so painful, I know. This forum has been a good place for me to write out my feelings and what I am going through and to know we are not alone in our pain.

I just posted earlier how I was in so much pain. I have been doing ok and today it just ht me really hard. It's been about 6 weeks since my dog Lucymae was put to sleep. I miss her so much as you will miss your furry friend. I like to think they are all in a better place having a wonderful time.

Hugs to you,

Lynn

Thank you for your heartfelt responses.

The guilt has lessened and now I'm more certain than ever that I did the right thing. I think about him every day and the hardest part is when I wake in the middle of the night, thinking I hear him calling for me.

Today I received a condolence card from the vet. He included a small piece of paper with Oscar's actual paw print on it. I stared at it for a good few minutes, surprised and..... I don't know what I was feeling. I kept imagining how they must have gotten the print and it bothered me for some reason. I think I'll be glad that I have it in the future but right now I find it upsetting.

Thank you Moon Beam, Lynn and Mollycat. (I had a Mollycat too!)

Hi, Caroline, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Sometimes the momentoes of our beloved companions can be upsetting when we are in deep grief. I promise you that your beloved Oscar was not harmed in any way in getting his pawprint. It is very similar to having our fingerprints taken. When my mom was still with me one year for mother's day my mom made me a "mother's day" card from our companions and had them "sign" it with their pawprints which she got by pressing their paws in some vegetable coloring - - and I still have this card which is so very precious to me as a keepsake as my mom and both of our companions that we shared together those many years ago are now with the angels. It's okay to put this keepsake of your beloved Oscar's pawprint away until YOU feel you are ready to find it comforting.

It is also very common for us to hear and feel the Presence of our beloved companions after they have joined the angels. This is not your imagination - - it is your beloved Oscar's way of letting you know that his sweet Living Spirit continues to be with you. It is okay to continue to talk to him as you always did during his earthly journey for the sound of your voice continues to be sweet as he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Caroline, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Oscar's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

I am so thankful I found this website. Caroline, I'm so sorry about your Oscar. And Lynn, so sorry about your beloved Lucymae as well. I hope and pray each day gets easier for you both! It truly is an incredible bond that we create with our pets who offer unconditional love.

And similar to your situations, last week I found myself on the phone with the vet who had "bad news" about my best friend of 20 years, Precious. She was in kidney failure. After several days of not really knowing where she was, barely walking, barely seeing and not eating, I knew something was wrong and deep down knew it was close to time. I had to make the hard decision about euthanasia, and I feel really guilty.

I picked Precious out of a litter of kittens when I was 5-years-old and we were best friends from the start. I am truly heartbroken and lost. I feel like my life is completely empty now without her. I miss her more than words can describe. Although everyone tells me I "did the right thing" I still can't help but feel guilty. Moon Beam said euthanasia is the last gift of love we can give our pets, and I like that outlook, but I still can't help but wonder if I really did make the right decision. Almost a week has passed since she left this earth, and while the euthanasia part has become a little easier because I know she was suffering and I know she was in pain and had been for quite some time. But I still feel guilty for some reason, like I could have tried harder. And I feel worse because I left and went out of town for three days before I found out she was near the end of her life. She seemed like herself when I left. I feel even more guilty because I didn't hold her for those last few days, even hours, before she had to be put to sleep.

I haven't been out on my back porch, which was her domain, because I know she isn't there. My mom has cleaned up her food bowls, bags of food she didn't finish eating and other of her things. But it still hurts and I find it too painful to even step out there knowing she won't be there. I just don't know how to cope.
The vet did give me ink paw prints of hers, which has helped a lot. Looking through photos of her in her prime has helped, too, but I still dread going home because I won't hear that meow when I come home and I can't pick her up and snuggle while we watch TV anymore. I found the poem "Rainbow Bridge" which has also helped me a lot. I know she is up there waiting on me, and I really can't wait until I can meet her again and see her furry face and hug her again. But it just breaks my heart to know that it may be a long, long, long time before that can happen.

How does someone get through something like this? I've lost other pets, but nothing like this. I don't have children, but this is the closest I can imagine to the loss of a child. The vet and almost everyone else I've told about how old Precious was says they are amazed she lived as long as she did, but I wish I had more time with her! I wish as a child I hadn't been so rough with her as children can be. I know she loved me and I just can't help but wonder if she thinks I did the right thing.

Thank you for letting me share. --Crissie