After a massive struggle, I had to let my Fred go yesterday. He was my cuddle buddy for 12 years.
I am beyond grief I think, it hurts so much. I'm not sure how I am going to cope now or what I need to do to alleviate the hurt.
I know that we will most likely outlive our pets and this is the law of nature, but that doesn't heal the heart.
Poor Fred lost appetite and came down with a very high fever on the 24th of March and so I took him to the vet first thing on Monday morning where they set him up with an IV and kept him for two days. After that, he came home and was doing fabulous on a prescription of steroids, antibiotics and something for this liver. He was diagnosed with Triaditus. 14 days later after the antibiotics and steroids were reduced the fever came back. Those 14 days were great, he was doing great and the cuddles were even better. It was like he knew though....
Unfortunately, the fever came back and this was how it was for the next week until he was referred to a more sophisticated vet hospital in the city. They stabilised him and tested absolutely everything but one thing came up irregular - his spleen. As it was Easter weekend the test results from his spleen didn't come back until yesterday morning. All this time he was in the ICU 3 hours away and I couldn't see him.
The call with the results came in and it was cancer. Bad cancer. Round cell cancer. Bad news. The vet also said that Fred's fever had returned and he was not well, very quiet and not in a good way. The vet said I could do further tests to find out what kind of cancer it was and where it was exactly, but I just knew in my heart that it was time to let Fred go.
We fought the good fight. He was a real trooper, but it was time to let the suffering end.
Anything I did further to save him was for myself, not him.
So, I drove the three hours to him, heart in my mouth, and spent some time with him before I told them it was time. He lay down on the table and lay his big beautiful head on my arm and just purred. We stayed like that for half an hour, my tears soaking his head as I talked to him. He was purring as they put him to sleep. As they already had an IV line in, he didn't know what was coming, so when the purring stopped, that was his end.
I am beyond grief, every time I think about this last moments. I think I'm traumatised from the last two weeks and from his final moments in my arms. I'm not sure what to do with myself, my guts are in a not, my heart hurts and I cannot stop crying.
We never get enough time.
I am beyond grief I think, it hurts so much. I'm not sure how I am going to cope now or what I need to do to alleviate the hurt.
I know that we will most likely outlive our pets and this is the law of nature, but that doesn't heal the heart.
Poor Fred lost appetite and came down with a very high fever on the 24th of March and so I took him to the vet first thing on Monday morning where they set him up with an IV and kept him for two days. After that, he came home and was doing fabulous on a prescription of steroids, antibiotics and something for this liver. He was diagnosed with Triaditus. 14 days later after the antibiotics and steroids were reduced the fever came back. Those 14 days were great, he was doing great and the cuddles were even better. It was like he knew though....
Unfortunately, the fever came back and this was how it was for the next week until he was referred to a more sophisticated vet hospital in the city. They stabilised him and tested absolutely everything but one thing came up irregular - his spleen. As it was Easter weekend the test results from his spleen didn't come back until yesterday morning. All this time he was in the ICU 3 hours away and I couldn't see him.
The call with the results came in and it was cancer. Bad cancer. Round cell cancer. Bad news. The vet also said that Fred's fever had returned and he was not well, very quiet and not in a good way. The vet said I could do further tests to find out what kind of cancer it was and where it was exactly, but I just knew in my heart that it was time to let Fred go.
We fought the good fight. He was a real trooper, but it was time to let the suffering end.
Anything I did further to save him was for myself, not him.
So, I drove the three hours to him, heart in my mouth, and spent some time with him before I told them it was time. He lay down on the table and lay his big beautiful head on my arm and just purred. We stayed like that for half an hour, my tears soaking his head as I talked to him. He was purring as they put him to sleep. As they already had an IV line in, he didn't know what was coming, so when the purring stopped, that was his end.
I am beyond grief, every time I think about this last moments. I think I'm traumatised from the last two weeks and from his final moments in my arms. I'm not sure what to do with myself, my guts are in a not, my heart hurts and I cannot stop crying.
We never get enough time.