Yet, with the cultural concept of “pet loss” only a few decades old, and with so few models to use from, many people are not always consciously aware of the similarities, and differences, between “person loss” and “pet loss.” This can interfere with our grief process.
There’s no question that we love our cats, and they love us back. This alone means we can’t help but use our human experience to handle our loss. In many ways, having a pet draws from many human experiences; we receive companionship, seek comfort from, and also nurture, our beloved cat.
Yet the society at large presents confusing messages about our emotions at such a time. The reactions swing from belittling our loss: It was only a cat!, to over-reaction based on human relationships: How can you even think about getting another cat? Didn’t you love Mr. Whiskers?
It’s no wonder people are confused about both their feelings and the proper response. Here are some guidelines that might help.
The length of the experience. If we had our cat for a long time, that is a different grief that the untimely death of a cat we had for only a few years.
A relationship of a decade or two means a great many milestones were stamped with our cat’s presence; an indelible part of our personal history. The emotions that are stirred up as we recall their endearing ways can make us conscious of how much of our own life is now in the past with them.
Yet a long and lovely life can also be its own reward. If our cat lived to a happy old age with us, we couldn’t have asked much more of them. This “sense of completeness” can remind us we certainly enjoyed them to the fullest.
A cat who dies while still too young can create a sense of anger over feeling cheated out of years we had anticipated enjoying. Grief can be sharper over unrealized potential. There can also be feelings of guilt; even if we took excellent care of our boy or girl, we could feel that we somehow should have done better, and then we could still have them.
Worse yet, perhaps we did make mistakes; we can cling to our grief to punish ourselves. But this is also pointless. If we had known that decision or delay would have such terrible consequences, we certainly would not have decided the way we did.
Either way, we must forgive ourselves for not controlling every possible outcome; this is a power that was never ours to control in the first place.
The intensity of the experience. There are cats who move through our life attuned to our emotions and thoughts. Losing such a cat not only puts a seeming hole in our heart, it can make us despair of having such a marvelous relationship again.
This can tinge our grief with an unwelcome whiff of selfishness. This can cause us to double down on our grief to drive the thought away. Just as people are individuals and can never be duplicated, we can never replace the cat we lost. We feel the loss all the more keenly when we are faced with the fact that this relationship, so rewarding, will not pass our way again.
Denial of this uncomfortable fact is the impulse which drives some people to pay $50,000 dollars for a cloned replica. As I explained in this post, even a genetically identical cat might have the same genes; but we can never duplicate those genes’ particular expression.
Others might take denial to a less scientific level by seeking out a cat who closely resembles the lost cat, even to the point of giving them the same name.
We can’t find that cat again. But we can find a different cat, a different relationship; that is also wonderful. Just… different.
If the thought makes us feel uncomfortable, even “disloyal,” we have come to the crux of pet bereavement.
The problem is not in us. The problem is that most of us live in societies which have no language, structure, or recognition of how closely we can bond with a pet.
Imagine a society which has a concept called “pet loss” and offers guidelines about when it’s “right” to get over it, when it’s “okay” to get on with it, and at the same time honors the depths of our feelings both while we love, and when we lose, our pet.
It sounds great! Unfortunately, we are not all the way there yet.
So we continue to show up at work as though nothing has happened, head for the restroom if we think of how we will be going home to an empty chair or hallway, and only confide our true feelings to those of our friends who feel about their pets the same way we do; and are struggling with similar feelings of conflict.
Our grief over pets must run its course; so we can get another. One reason we might cling to our grief, and not process it, is that we feel guilty when we feel it lessen. This is also true of both people and pets; the “pet loss” twist is that while we can love our cat very much, losing them does not have the same power to alter our life.
With pets, we ask them to shape their life around ours; their ability to do this is part of why pets are so appealing. When we lose a pet, it is profoundly hurtful, and we miss them. But we have not lost a shared income, advice on our love life, or the chance to see them graduate. People relationships have a much longer anticipated scope; with their loss we feel our entire life landscape shift under our feet.
Pets are different; it may not be fair that they don’t live as long as we do, but it is the reality. That is the shape of the relationship; that we experience their entire life during a fraction of our own.
While it is sad; it is also joyous. Because we can do it over and over again; in a way that is not possible with human relationships.
We are fortunate when we keep our parents, our friends, our life partners, and so many other relationships for such a long arc of time. But this is necessarily restrictive; it often represents a limited number of chances at having that kind of relationship at all.
After all, there are times when we move quickly after a loss. When a child is orphaned, we don’t decide to let them “get over” their loss before getting them new parents. We move them quickly into a new “parenting situation,” because they need support to get over it, at all.
That is the confusing thing about losing a pet we love very much; imposing a human template on our loss only distorts the enjoyment our cat gave us during their life. That was their purpose.
To make us enjoy the experience so much we can’t help but want to try it again.
We should resist well-meant urgings to get another if we still don’t feel like it; this can be the person’s way of trying to help, but it can make us feel that they are not acknowledging the specialness of our cat; this is not like getting another African Violet.
But we should also not berate ourselves if we find cravings for another cat popping up quite soon; even as our grief over the gone cat has not really diminished. We can feel both; missing the cat who is gone, and longing to love, and be loved, by a cat again.
It is the nature of cat relationships; to lead us into more cat relationships.
Over and over, people have expressed to me their grief over a recent cat loss, and then, finding a sympathetic ear, confiding that they have such a strong desire to get another cat. Is it wrong? they always ask me.
No, it’s not wrong at all. We can miss our cat for a long time; their pawprints need never leave our heart.
But what does that have to do with loving another cat? If we have many cats, we can love them all simultaneously; losing one doesn’t mean we stop loving the living.
The desire to embark on a New Cat Adventure is actually a natural response to loss. It is the assertion of our heart that we still have much to give. It is healthy to have room, in our homes and our hearts, to moderate our grief… by giving the gift of life.
Which is actually the most loving memorial we can build.
The toughest part of having a cat is deciding to say goodbye. Find help in my posts on coping with end of life issues.
Got here from a Link or Search?
There’s more ways to care for our cat with The Way of Cats than the article you are reading now. See all of my posts on mourning our cat.
The mother of a friend of mine lost her cat of 18 years suddenly. I only had one cat then, and wasn’t planning on getting another. I said to her, “I don’t think that I could ever replace Killsy when it’s her time to go.” And she said “You never replace a pet. You make room in your heart for another.”
What a wise lady. I’ve found that to be so true.
I will have to remember that saying when someone announces that they cannot get another pet. Also there are so many that need homes.
Margaret Elmendorf’s last blog post..A rescued pet comes up with a miracle
One thing I learned when I lost 3 relatives in a year and a half is that there is no right way to grieve, no right amount of time, no point at which it’s not okay to be over it or not okay to not be over it.
Grief is a strange thing. It comes and goes, gone a month, sharp a week, gone a year, unbearable for a few days. Like love, it follows no rules, it obeys no logic, and it can’t be willed out of existence.
I have lost pets I mourned as deeply as humans, lost humans I mourned less deeply than pets, been grieved to tears both many and often by the loss of people I have never even met.
Our humanity is brilliant and complex, our capacity for pain, and new kinds of pain, is astounding, and eclipsed only by our capacity for love and the many varieties of it open to us.
No right love or wrong love, no right grief or wrong grief. Just our human hearts, doing the best they can.
I personally cannot imagine allowing grief to close the door on my love. I will always need to meet the next cat.
The presence of animals in my life, who do not expect my feelings to obey our often stupid societal rules that surround strong emotion, has always been a comfort. It’s one of their better points, without a doubt.
Thank you for this thoughtful and compassionate post, and for the “Saying Goodbye” series.
It has been almost three weeks since I had to say goodbye to Makana after almost 14 years; your writings have helped tremendously in moving through the grief of loss to acceptance, and celebration of the joy and love Makana brought to my life.
It soon will be time to offer another cat (and probably two, likely senior cats from a shelter) a home, and your blog is going to continue to be a great resource to make life better for those “future” felines.
Aloha and mahalo!
.-= Lokahi´s last blog ..Aloha to Makana =-.
Aloha and mahalo! Thank you for appreciation so well expressed. New cats will always be different, but also joyous in their own ways.
Thank you so much for your empathy. I so miss my beloved cat.
Yesterday we had to put our Takie asleep after 7 years. We had her since she was born on our patio.
Takie was 1 of the 3 kitties that we saved from being born on our patio 7 years ago. We all miss Takie as she was the most affectionate one and always sat on my lap every time I sat down or laid down. She always slept on my chest every night. We have tremendous grief as Takie’s life was short 7 years as I didn’t except this to happen so suddenly. For 2 days she didn’t eat and kept vomiting which turned out to be cancer. The Dr says the cancer could be removed because of where is was located. My other cats at home (4) seem to be looking around for her especially Chukie and Charlie who were born with her on our patio. This is how I found your website to look for cat grief which they may be suffering. Great website that you have and great information we all can receive during times like these.
Thank you, Leo, and I’m glad my post helped a bit.
It’s the loss of love that hurts the most. I hope you feel that the joy outweighs the sorrow.
Thank you for the thoughtful post. Losing a pet is just as hard as losing anything else you love. They have their own little personalities just like people. My kitty can be a little terror at time, but she’s so loving, cuddly and cute too. I find myself thinking sometimes what a blessing it is to have him and what an empty void it will leave when his day does come and he is gone. This site is a good bookmark to help keep a perspective and to help those that do have to cope with it to deal with the loss. Thanks again.
.-= Michelle´s last blog ..Disclosure: Compensated Affiliate =-.
It has been one month since I said a final goodbye to my beloved best feline friend, Ivy. She and I went through thick and thin during the 15 years we shared. I am the biological mother of two children, yet always told my children that she was their ” sister”.
She died in my arms with a heart attack in the presence of my oldest child…
I miss her so very much. I find myself crying on the way to work. Yet, I am embarrased to talk to many about my grief.
There is absolutely no way that she can or will be replaced, but I so long to cuddle, snuggle and stroke another cat. She was my Prozac!!!!! My blood pressure medicine!
I know that someday another will touch my heart, ,but right now, I am still aching, reeling from her passing that I cannot even consider it.
To my fellow cat lovers… Their soul found yours… And will always be with you.
Hello
I lost my cat, Spot, who has been a good and trusted friend of 17 years. She had cancer and we made the decision to end her suffering today. I always found her right next to me wherever I went. We took so many naps and watched so much tv together. No matter what, she was there. There is an emptiness in our home and in my heart right now, but there are also thousands of cherished memories.
Thank you for posting this article; it helps me pinpoint my feelings and brings much comfort.
I lost my little precious dog last week. He was having trouble with having stones forming in his bladder, almost every month or so. He had numerous operations to remove them, but the last time he was at the vet to have them removed, he had some complications. I miss him (Rocco) terribly and am having a very hard time. I had him since he was 6wks. old and when he passed, he was 5yrs. old. If I could have taken his pain, I would have. I loved the little precious more than I can put into words. Everywhere I went, he was there, and it’s just a horrible feeling to know I’ll never see him again, except in Heaven.
I’m so sorry, Mildred. It’s such a shock when they are that young.
I had to say goodbye to my dearest friend (Salem) this past Monday due to him losing his battle with Feline Leukemia. We met 6 years ago when he wandered into my backyard as a very wild 8-9 month old kitty. He was a very handsome, black kitty with intense green eyes. I felt such an instant connection and was determined to tame this wonderful creature. I worked with him daily to earn his trust just to let me get close enough to feed him. It was then that I could see that he also needed medical attention and so off he went to his first appointment to save his life. Eventually I could hold Salem and then we just progressed from there. Within a year or so I was able to move him into my home fulltime. He became a wonderful lapcat and snuggled beside me every second he could. He was a little talker and it became my very favorite sound. He took from me the miseries of life and he soothed my soul. Then he became very ill from the virus when he was 3 and I had to have fluid drained from his lungs and he was put on Prednisone which helped him greatly. I am so thankful that we got three more wonderful years together before I had to say goodbye last week. But my spirit is still broken. I am grieving harder than I think I ever have. I keep thinking that I am going to see his little head peek around the corner of a doorway or hear his little meow in the morning to let me know he is hungry or that he wants to play. I really loved what Tina said in that she believes that their souls find us. That was comforting, because it almost seems like it could be true. Maybe Salem did choose me, because he knew I would do everything I could to save his life and give him as many good years as possible, but also that I would love him enough to let him go. When there was nothing left to do and Salem was visibly struggling….I had to make that horrible decision to say goodbye to such an important member of my family and I will miss him forever
Lana
any advise to help in the grieving process would be sooo appreciated
Hey! Thanks a lot…
Thanks for this.
I lost my beloved Bijan suddenly last April — We are still not sure what happened. He was nearly 13 years old, but in apparrently excellent health. He was up on the bed with me as usual at bedtime, and feeling playful, so I played with him until I fell asleep. I woke up about two hours later, and he was still lying beside me, but he was gone. I’m still a bit in shock, although I have some hope that it was quick and painless (if he’d been in pain, he’d surely have woken me up!).
Bijan certainly had his personality quirks — but he loved his three humans very much and me in particular. He always wanted to be wherever we were, and would follow us from room to room. And whenever I (or my husband or sister) was under a great deal of stress — he just seemed to know it, and gave us extra love. It really has not felt like home without him.
My husband misses him greatly too — but unlike me wanted to get a new kitty as soon as possible. Not that he thought we could ever replace our Little B, but because he said that Bijan showed him what a relationship with a pet could be — and the best way to honor his life was to open our hearts to a new kitty.
Well, I just brought home a new kitten last Friday – Freyja, who is a Persian like Bijan, and will soon be bringing home her “brother” when he is old enough. And in true kitten form, she is insanity wrapped up in a thoroughly adorable fuzzy package. Nonetheless, I find myself crying over Bijan for the first time in weeks — almost as if the new fuzzy little face in the house make me feel the loss of him even more.
Reading this has helped me realize that I’m not being unfair to either Bijan’s memory, or to my new little girl — who, like Bijan before her, is already very much her own cat. I do know that it will take time to forge the kind of deep bond we had with our Little B — and that our relationship with Freyja will develop differently. Although I will always miss him, I am looking forward to getting to know and love Freyja (and her brother, when he joins us) over the coming years. They will never take Bijan’s place, but I know they will build their own special places in my heart.
Thank you for your thoughts.
I took my beloved cat Fluffy to the vet exactly one week ago, thinking she just needed some tests and new thyroid pills. Two hours after we got there, she died of a previously undetected tumor. The last look she gave me, an intense stare right through my eyes and into my heart, reassured me that she loved me and thanked me.
I’m glad it all happened in humane and loving circumstances.
You make an excellent point that in the USA we don’t really have established rituals for mourning our little companions. It’s a great help to read your site and the replies left by your readers.
I lost my little mate Eric three days ago after a poorly few weeks. He was 14. I found out subsequently from the vets that his tests indicated he had Feline Infectious Peritonitis. It hurts like mad that he’s no longer here.
He died early on the Friday morning which came as a shock as on the Thursday I felt he was making an improvement, he never stopped eating or drinking and had moments when he was quite alert. Thursday evening he came into the living room and, with a great deal of effort, jumped onto the settee and sat with myself and my wife. We fussed him as always and he was purring loudly, he stayed there until about 1 o’clock and then went to a little bed we made for him at the back door. At 4:30 I checked on him and he was losing his fight, in the time it took me to get some things to clean up a little accident he had passed.
I like to think that he was saying goodbye Thursday evening and think it was an extremely brave and loving thing he did. I have found your words very comforting and can see myself one day sharing my love with another little mate, but not yet I need time to get over the loss of Eric.
My sympathies to everyone here who has lost a beloved cat. I have been through this twice now, with two longtime companions, each at different stages in my life. Nothing hurts worse. It’s been a year since I lost my last one.
The one thing I really want to emphasize is for people NOT to encourage someone who has suffered this loss to get another cat. This is NOT a helpful or comforting response. It’s a very personal decision, and I can’t tell you how tired I am of people pressuring me to do this with the subtle attitude that I’m being selfish if I don’t. Someone said above, “You never replace a pet. You make room in your heart for another,” to which someone else replied that they want to remember to say that the next time someone announces they have lost a pet. Please don’t! This is not a new response, neither is it a good one, and I don’t want to hear it anymore. We all know that we can’t replace our cats, so telling us this is pointless. Yes, there are millions of cats who need homes, and I adore cats, but this is the last thing I want to hear. It not only makes me feel very uncomfortable and misunderstood, but it is not anyone’s place to dictate what I should do or how I should handle my grief, neither am I selfish if I’m not ready to “make room in my heart” for another. Please, DO NOT pressure people to get another cat, or even suggest it. If it’s right for them, it will happen on its own, when the time it right, without your input. I have so little tolerance left for hearing this that I’m afraid I’ll fly into a rage the next time someone says it. “I’m so very sorry and I completely understand how difficult it must be for you” is the best response, and leave it at that. Please!
My Bertie got hit by a car yesterday. We only had him for a little less than a year. He was a vagabond that started squatting in my parents’ garage, so my partner and I adopted him. Even though we only had him for a short while, we loved him so intensely and he loved us.
I am devastated, and I feel very confused about wanting to get a new cat, but I don’t know if I can bear an empty house. All of Bert’s old perches and hangouts are now empty, and it’s a terrible reminder.
Thank you for this article.
Thank you for this wonderful article. Our cat was 18 years old and she passed away Monday evening. She was a petite and gentle lady who gave us many years of joy. She experienced a life of excellent health and was even playful through this Christmas. She loved to chew and paw at all the wrapping paper and ribbons. However, over the last few months her appetite did decrease and she lost several pounds and she enjoyed sleeping more in her favorite bed next to the heater vent in the kitchen. This was her spot. All cozy and warm. The perfect picture of peace and tranquility.
My daughter got Ms. Tori when she was 8 years and was her playmate through elementary and high school. We kept her after our daughter finished college and moved away to start her own home. Ms. Tori was an old fashioned regal lady who never got excited and was comfortable just by being at your side, whether you were reading or enjoying a lazy afternoon in the backyard. Her favorite treat was a small table scrap of chicken. She only came to the table and meowed when we were having chicken.
She appeared to have experienced a stroke a few days ago and had difficulty walking with her back legs. We had a rare snowstorm here in S.C. and the veterinarian’s office was closed. Ms. Tori kept going to a dark closet which she had never done before and we took this a sign that she dying. My wife prepared her a bed in the closet and placed her food and water bowl close to her. She drank a lot of water and tried so hard to get to her litter box. It was heart wrenching to see her struggle to make it across the kitchen floor. We helped her into the litter box and she would cry out when it was time to go again.
My wife wrapped her in her favorite blanket and and she appeared to be content with being curled up in her bed next to another warm vent in the closet. My wife spent the entire day with her gently brushing her head and comforting her. We knew the end was near by the look in her eyes. The eyes of a cat are truly a window to her soul. She passed away so ever gently just as in the life she lived. Even on her death bed she was a beautiful little creature.
I buried Ms. Tori in her favorite bed and blanket beneath the snow this morning in our garden. When I depart this life I trust and hope that I will be caressed and given words of comfort by my loving wife just as she provided to our pet, Ms. Tori.
Thank you for this article! I am currently struggling after losing my furry purry less than a week ago.
Shelby, my beautiful orange/white tabby was diagnosed with mammary gland cancer, which I opted to treat. Per the vet’s recommendation, she had her mammary chains removed and underwent four rounds of chemo. Throughout Shelby’s illness, there would be times that she would be sleepy or would stop eating for a period of time, but she always bounced back. Several times, I contacted the vet and was told she needed to work through it, which she did. I did not become alarmed after her last round of chemo when she seemed under the weather because she always bounced back. The night before Shelby’s one month check up after completing her chemo, she was sleeping alot and fell when she tried to stand. I rushed her to the emergency vet and to my horror was told that Shelby was in acute renal failure. They tried to treat her with fluids all night, but her condition did not improve and she actually was actually getting worse. The vet told me that we could continue to treat, but that she was not encouraged because Shelby had not been responsive to treatment. She also impressed upon me that Shelby was did not feel well. Shelby was very sick. I felt guilty because I wondered had I taked her to the vet when she did not feel well would it have been caught sooner thereby giving her a better chance. The vet assurred me that I did not miss anything and that Shelby probably hid how truly bad she felt until she could not anymore, which is when she ended up at the vet.
When I went to the hospital to see Shelby the next day after she had been admitted, she was not lucid and did not respond to me. When I saw her, I knew that I had to fight my urge to keep trying to “save her”, because what she needed was for me to help end her suffering. She was no longer urinating on her own, had a feeding tube, and was on fluids. It was the hardest decision I ever made, but I decided that I could not let her be like that. I had to end her suffering.
As far as the decision to be with her during the process, that was easy. My best human friend went with me to see Shelby at the vet when the decision was made to end her suffering. She asked me was I sure that I wanted to be present when Shelby’s life ended. She thought that maybe I should say goodbye to Shelby and leave her with the vet for the final moments. I told her that Shelby and I had been together for close to 14 years. Shelby earned having me there to hold her and comfort her during her last moments and that is what I did. My friend stayed too for both me and Shelby. The vet gave us time alone with Shelby and I held her and told her how much I loved her. How I knew that she tried to fight, but that she was ready to go now. The vet came in an explained the process to me and gave Shelby a couple of injections. Shelby died peacefully in my arms. I have not been able to stop crying since the night I took Shelby to the vet, though there is no doubt in my mind I made the right decision for her.
Prior to Shebly, I had another cat, Frankie, who died after falling from my apt. window. Frankie’s death was extremely painful for me and I was not sure whether I would be able to have another cat because I did not want the pain of losing another cat. Eventually, I was guided to Shelby, who I had alot of great years with. Shelby and I welcomed Chloe, a wonderful Calico into our club. I am sure that when the time is right, Chloe and I will welcome another furry purry into the fold.
Thank you for the information you have posted on pet loss and preparing for it. My 14 yr old, Koala [yes, she looks like a Koala Bear] has been fading for the past several months, has had seizures and is now just hanging on for me. She has gazed at me a lot the past few days and I guess she is telling me it’s time. Koala has made two cross-country moves with me, is the matriarch of my six cat household, and the three males nurture and groom her, especially recently.
My first experience with losing a cat was with my 16 yr old Calico Muff, who became progressively thinner, pulling her fur out, etc. The vet hydrated her but a week later I knew it was time. This was in 1992 and I still get teary-eyed. About a month after losing her a coworker needed to rehome her big tuxedo cat. Caspar and I fell in love and he lived in Muff’s house, moved with me to Colorado and then to Ohio. He had always had a companion at his previous owner’s house, so I found a kitten who had been rescued from a gang of little boys – she evidently was shaken by them [eyes are always dilated] and Caspar raised her. One year after I adopted her, I felt a hard lump in Caspar’s neck. The vet didn’t think anything of it but in two weeks it was golfball size. He had cancer and also diabetes from a cortisone shot. He endured his daily insulin quite well and we would visit the vet on a regular basis. when the cancer was found. He stayed with me another five months or so and when he stopped eating I knew; he was put down in September 1998. He was 12.
A couple months later something pulled me to a pet food store where I had never been. I needed cat food so went in, found my brand, looked over my shoulder and there she was – a Calico kitten from the Humane Society who looked very much like Muff. She drilled me with her laser green eyes [I was not going to look but she pulled me in]. Then I went to her cage [I was not going to hold her but she reached out]. Well, I adopted her and she and Koala have been together ever since – enduring my fostering of cats and kittens and, horrors, adopting two male kittens.
So now it is time for Koala to go find Caspar amid much grief and tears. This blog, which I just found today, had been instrumental in helping me come to grips with the kindest thing I can do for Koala. It is not about me; it is about her quality of life, enjoyment and well-being. Muff and Caspar have left their paw prints all over my heart, and Koala will too. In an odd way, this line of cats has continued my link with Muff and also the cat I got as a wedding present. Tish lived with my in-laws while we were overseas and came to a sudden demise at our first house when she got out and was hit by a car. Later, we stayed with my in-laws again briefly, and I found Muff in the back yard – she was the size of a tribble. Several years later after my divorce, she and I were on our own. So all my cats are linked by the places I have lived, and as odd as that sounds, it is comforting. Thank you.
My husband and I had to have one of our two cats to sleep last year after 14 years of his companionship and love.
Our other cat, now 15 is displaying signs of distress due to old age aliments. I am having a hard time trying to figure out when we will have to make the hard decision to let him go.
Our first cat left no doubt, his kidneys were failing. At 14 there was little left to do.
We are currently trying antibiotics and will pursue blood tests to determine what his illness entales, but we still are concerned that we may be subjecting him to tests and a painful life. When is it time?
I wrote a post called How to Know When It’s Time.
I lost my beloved Sheba she was 14 years old suffering from kidney disease and thyroid problems… I took her to the vet 3 days ago hoping there was something i could do for her to take her home…she had been with me thru good times and bad times and never left my side… the vet told me i could give her some medicine but it may or may not help and then i had the other problem to deal with and thyroid problems can be horrible on the cat so right there and then i had to make a decision and i chose to euthanize her and ever since then i have had nothing but guilt should i have given her the meds and given her the chance to see if they did work? she did not leave me when i was sick she stayed by my bedside and i feel i have let her down my beautiful sheba
Our beautiful boy, Evan passed away in his sleep yesterday. He was only 7 years old, and he was given a clean bill of health by the vet only a few months ago. He showed no signs of illness, was eating, drinking, and going to the bathroom normally, as always. Needless to say, his death was a complete shock to us. The only comfort we have is the fact that he was asleep in bed with us and his big brother, Butler when he died, and that he looked peaceful. He was with his family who loved him.
Evan was our little love bug. He loved snuggling, and giving kisses, and sleeping in our arms. I called him my teddy bear because he loved to sleep with us and would let me hug him since we brought him home when he was 8 weeks old. Evan was such a special little guy. He was an eternal kitten in a big boy’s body. He lived his life with such fervor and enjoyment of all things, especially eating and playing with Butler.
My husband and I have been crying since 4 o’clock yesterday morning when we realized he was gone. Butler didn’t sleep last night and just kept wandering around the house morosely, looking around and sniffing everything. I know this because I didn’t sleep either.
Today, we decided to go to the shelter even though it’s only been one day because we were afraid Butler would get more depressed. Our cats have chosen us when we’ve gone to the shelter. We weren’t going planning to come home with a new feline, but that’s what ended up happening. This little boy saw us and went crazy meowing at my husband just the way Evan always had all the time. We played with him awhile, and that was it. We knew he was the one. Oddly enough, it didn’t even occur to us until we were on the way home that the name the shelter had given him was ‘Longoria,’ as in EVAN Longoria, the baseball player.
We feel it was meant to be, but we are grieving so desperately for our little orange boy who left us so suddenly without warning. Our hearts are broken and we are hoping we didn’t make a mistake in rushing into adoption only a day after losing our baby.
I don’t know if we were right in giving Butler a new companion so soon, or if we should have waited until the pain wasn’t so severe. The new kitten is sweet, playful, loving, and this is his new forever home. I understand there aren’t rules on grieving, and our new kitten is not a replacement as no one could ever replace Evan. Just please tell me we aren’t crazy for not giving ourselves and Butler more time to mourn our loss.
Thank you all for sharing your stories. I feel for anyone who loses their beloved fur babies.
We lost our beautiful Siamese girl cat Jade on October 27th 2011 to Lymphoma. Reading your article and some of the comments will certainly assist us throught this tough time. It is most difficult because her brother Simba is not taking it very well. He is struck with grief. We are giving him as much attention as is possible and hoping that with time he will get over it. They were extremely close. Thanks to the lady who remarked that you can never replace the one you lost but you can make room in your heart to give love to another.. I will let the tears flow until they choose to go away.
Thank you
We had to put our 17yr old baby Sandy to sleep yesterday 16th November 2011. About two years ago he developed cancer on his nose. Two operations later, the cancer was still viciously attacking his nose. THe last month or so he was not eating much anymore and was so weak it seemed it was a battle for him to walk. I kept telling myself I will not have him put to sleep because he was happy to just be with me. Eventually it was breaking my heart to see him so weak and I realised it was time. Since I had made the decision, I could not stop crying, I just could not imagine life without him. Now he is gone and resting peacefully in his favorite spot in our backyard.I still expect to see him around every corner or jumping on my lap and this brings me to tears each time but I believe it will get better and soon I will enjoy the happy memories of him without crying. I will always love him and he will always have a very special place in my heart.
Exactly a week ago, I lost my cat of 20 years, so your article has been very helpful to understand my own grieving process. I have been dealing with tremendous guilt about the fact that sometime during my cat’s last couple of weeks, I was told later, she must had suffered a stroke. I didn’t realize it when it happened, to me she just started to act strangely, and I thought it was a sign of senility, considering her age. Then within a couple of days things went from bad to worst and when I took her to the vet, my companion was too ill for something to be done for her. On top of it all, I had always hoped that she would pass away from age at home. I had no idea that at the end I’d have to make the terrible decision of having to “put to sleep” my most faithful and loving companion.
After such a shock, I only took a day off work to recover, but then right after I had to go back to being my regular, “cheerful” self (people always says I smile all the time), since my work involves other people and few have reacted as if losing a pet represents a major event in one’s life. At the same time, in private, I’m also trying to express my grief in a healthy manner, not keeping it bottled up. For example, I made a video with pictures and some clips I made of her when she was well, so I would remember her as a healthy bundle of energy and joy, not the terrible shape I last saw her in. I also plan to put her ashes in a flower pot (I live in an apartment, so no backyard), so she will have a real resting place that will always be close to me.
However, I’ve also been struggling about the emptiness I feel around me without having my friend and I have been wondering if I’ll ever have a cat again. After reading your article, I do feel I’ll need to give myself some time to deal with the guilt and the pain of my loss, but your blog entry has helped me see that it’s healthy to let myself feel this way for now and that it’ll be ok to one day try to adopt again. So, thank you, for helping me make sense a lot of what I’ve been wondering about!