On the morning of May 18th, I had to set my little friend's spirit free from the pain of cancer.
A year and a half ago, I was evicted from my home of 12 years and was forced to take a place 1/4 the size at nearly the same rent and it came with roaches, later bedbugs and then mice. The move really took a hard toll on my cat, Kitty, who loved the old (100-year-old, really) place as much as I did. After a few months in this new place she got very sick from the stress of the move and I ended up syringe-feeding her back to health, which took about a month with help from the vet. I was so happy and thankful to her for getting better: some years back, in the span of a few months, all of my close friends left the city - getting married, finding new opportunities etc - and I was suddenly alone with only Kitty for my support.
Moving forward to Christmas time 2016, I picked Kitty up and felt a small lump in her breast. At first I thought it was a bit of scar tissue from maybe her scratching too hard, but over the coming days it got larger. I finally got to see the vet in the first week of January where they did an operation and removed the tumor, the vet - an AMAZING guy a few blocks from me with enough empathy for ten people - telling me she probably had about six months, but you could never tell with cancer.
I was just thrilled my best little buddy was on the mend, even if she had to wear that infuriating cone for a few weeks.
Life was happy and normal again until the beginning of April; I picked her up one morning in the kitchen to give her a big pre-breakfast hug when I felt it. Another lump. I won't forget that despair. I let out a low howl and felt my legs give way. She was probably confused by my sudden mood swing and the extra cuddles as I rocked her while she peered over my shoulder.
I didn't even consider the extra surgery: the vet said that from the size of the first lump, it was almost certain that the cancer was already swarming through her body ready to take up residence again. After a few weeks she started to lose interest in all her favorite foods, lost weight, and went out into the back patio more and more often to eat grass and lick the cement pathway, which I'd never seen before and found out it was a serious sign of ill-health. A tiny lump started forming on her head.

The thought of taking her in was agonizing, nightmarish; I'd swear to keep the appointments I made when she was looking very ill, but the day would come and she'd be bouncing around and happy and I tearfully cancelled at the last moment. This happened about three times. The stress and emotional wringing in deciding when is the right time is nearly unbearable; where's the tipping-point where quality-of-life lowers under whatever discomfort/pain she's going through? And why can't cats tell us in some precise way? I'm not expecting a well-put paw-written letter saying it's time, but anything would be better than this terrifying guess-work...

But on the 17th I did know it was time - the pain-killer drops I had from the vet weren't doing anything anymore and she was refusing the very last of her favorite healthy-snacks, which was all she would eat near the end. I called in sick to work early next morning and at 10 AM I carried her up, letting her sniff at all the now-in-bloom flowers along the way.
I said my goodbyes to her on the comfortable towel on the table, holding her scared face and promising her she'd just be asleep for a while, and would wake up soon at home with a nice big piece of cantaloupe to lick and smoked salmon to fill up on. I nodded to the vet, who had everything ready, and then I made a mistake I'll have to live with; I stepped back from the table. He then let her free, her perfect body seeming to fall asleep.
I feel so guilty for not holding her right to the very end! and I can't understand why I just stepped back to let the doctor do his job... It seems so minor, but it hits me very hard.
The doctor left the room to let me say my goodbye and to take as much time as I wanted. I kissed her little head and quickly left, letting the tears flow as I walked home.

I've felt grief in my life, but this was something entirely new, a whole new pain. I thought it would be bad, but fifteen years of that special love, from her being given to me by a friend at one year old until now and then it's just suddenly and completely over? Nothing would've prepared me for it.
It's just less than a week and I still get hit with crying-jags. I expect I will for quite a while. The best time of my day would be coming back from either the long work-day or just out shopping and hearing that meow-meow-meow and seeing her race towards me, that feline version of "Daddy's home!!". Now I just dread opening that door; that's when it hurts the most. It's such a profound emptiness... But, days before her passing, I mentally promised her to be happy and better my life - she always hated it when I was sad, and I won't disappoint her memory, if that makes sense.

Anyways, thanks for having this community and letting me vent out my feelings. The pain is easing, but it's so slow.

Goodbye my little beauty. Always love you!

Hi, Kitty's Dad, please permit me to offer you my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of your beloved Kitty. 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.

Kitty's Dad, this grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity. It is a journey that is filled with many different emotions that can overwhelm us all at one time which is why it is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride. One of the many emotions we all experiences is guilt / remorse for this comes from looking back and trying to reconcile all the whys, what ifs, and if onlys that haunt and torture our hearts when we are so emotionally vulnerable. From what you share with us there is no doubt that you did everything in your human and humane power to give your beloved Kitty a happy and healthy earthly journey. I hope in time you will be able to find a peace in your heart that your beloved Kitty knows that you love her and that your decision to release her sweet Living Spirit from her failing, frail physical body is a decision that you made from the deepest love you have for her - - you put her needs above yours especially at a time when your heart was breaking under the burden of deepest sorrow.

This is what love is, Kitty's Dad. And the good news in the midst of all this pain is that the love bond you and your beloved Kitty share is eternal - - it is not restricted by the physical laws of time and space. Your beloved Kitt's sweet Living Spirit is always and forever a part of your heart and memories - - she is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know so very well from first hand experience that when our hearts are entrenched in deep sorrow there are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the searing pain of sorrow. Still I hope the words I share with you will offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

Thank you so much for honoring us in sharing your beloved Kitty with us, and this wonderful picture of your beautiful girl. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Kitty's, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thanks, moon beam, your message is really appreciated. It does get easier day after day, but there's always some reminder in the home - be it a forgotten toy or an empty space where something should be - of this hole in my life and I just break down in heaving sobs, although they're getting less frequent. I suppose that goes away in time. I am starting to feel that guilt of feeling better, and I have to realize that she wouldn't want me to be sad, that being happy again doesn't mean she's forgotten. I'm still not sure if I want to adopt another little friend anytime soon, if ever (the thought of going through this again is terrifying) - but I hope he or she is as gentle and intelligent as Kitty was when I do.

Hi, Kitty's Dad, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are experiencing is very normal deep grief, and yes, eventually, the deep sorrow does ease and as this happens hopefully you will feel your heart fill with the warmth of the many treasured memories you and your beloved Kitty share.

As for embracing a new companion, only YOU will know if / when the time is "right", and rest assured that - - if you do find another homeless waif with whom you can share you can share your heart and home, your beloved Kitty will be guiding your path to that moment in time when you will know the time is "right." For now, though, it is important that you give yourself time to grieve for your beloved Kitty.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Kitty's Dad, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Kitty'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

Dear Djansen,

I would like to add my heartfelt sympathies on the physical loss of your precious Kitty. There is nothing like this type of grief.

Kitty absolutely DOES want you to be happy. And if the roles were switched and it was you who had passed before she did, you would want the same for her.

How you syringe-fed her back to health after that horrendous move is amazing! You worked a miracle... Then the cancer, and you and she triumphed for a while over that. You sure did everything humanly possible!

And I SO understand about that tipping point and the agony that goes with the decision.

Please try not to feel bad about stepping away when you did, at the vet's. It can be automatic, to step back to let the vet do his job. And it didn't affect Kitty. And now she understands---if she even questioned in the first place. She just knows she had---and will always have---the best Dad anyone could ask for.

Kitty is still right with you--and everywhere at the same time. And when it is your time to pass, you'll be fully reunited. In the meantime she's just fine.

I hope you continue to let us know how you are doing.

-Kathy
P.S. I agree with moon_beam... Kitty will guide you to the right time and circumstance, regarding adopting someone else who needs you. And if/when you do, it will be in honor of Kitty.

Thanks so much for the kind and helpful words, and sorry for the late reply.
I'm feeling better more and more, tho' the hole is always there. There's also this growing fear that I'm going to lose that feeling-memory of her. Photos help, but it's that warmth/connection of her that I feel slipping away. It's as if I'm slowly walking away from her and I can't stop or turn around to feel that love again. I guess that's the force of time - it moves you ahead no matter if it helps or hurts.
I'm only beginning to think about another cat now - they really do help disarm loneliness and sadness even if much of the time they're a sleeping lump of fluff on the bed. Unfortunately most rental units in the city are not pet-friendly, and the ones that are charge a pet damage deposit of half a month's rent . But time will tell.
Anyways, thanks again for the positivity and uplifting message!

Hi, Kitty's Dad, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief when you share with us feeling a "disconnection" from your beloved Kitty. Please know you will NEVER lose the love bond you and your beloved Kitty share - - for love is eternal - - your beloved Kitty is always and forever a part of your heart and memories - - she is always and forever a heartbeat close to you - - even if you don't always "feel" the "connection" in your daily routines. And this "connection" doesn't diminish if / when you decide to embrace a new companion into your heart and home.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Kitty's Dad, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Kitty'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

Glad to hear from you, Kitty's Dad.

I relate so well with the feeling of disconnection from the precious ones I've lost. It has disturbed me as well. But reading moon_beam's response to you just now has helped to reassure me so much. I like what she said ... "..even if you don't always "feel" the "connection" in your daily routines..." etc.



Hugs from Maine,
Kathy