CTB forum, I've avoided it. It breaks my heart every time I read someone's story of their baby's passing.
And now I am here, losing my baby, Monet.
I made the painful, yet right decision, yesterday to let him sleep and fly to the heavens.
I had a bit of a hard time sleeping last night, but I did get some sleep. Woke up (with a headache) and looked for Monet in his usual spots, even though I know he isn't there. I just imagine him laying on my laundry hamper or trotting down the hall to greet me for breakfast. I'm going to miss his every day routines. It felt weird to open one can of food and not two.
I'm going to miss the way he'd parkour off my wall during his zoomies. The way he'd lay against me while I'm on my computer and drinking coffee; I'd rub his belly. The way he'd hiss and smack at me if I pet him for one second too long. the "butt rubs" I'd give him whenever he's at his scratching post and his protests over kisses to his face. That one certain meow he'd give me for me to move whatever off my lap and move my arms so he could climb in for snuggles when on the couch. Or even the way he'd scold me whenever I'd scratch my underarms- I never figured out why he hated that. Most of all, I will miss the way he'd sleep with me spooned against my chest every single night. If I rolled over, he'd move over me to stay at my chest. Even his wake up calls 5 minutes before my alarm would go off.
He won two contests.
OMG!! Monet won AGAIN!!
Monet won!!!
Someone also submitted him on Icanhascheeseburger
A Little Privacy Please?
OK- Who submitted this photo to icanhascheezeburger?!????
Every single day I'd tell both of my cats that I love them. Every night before bed I'd say it with kisses. I know Monet knows I love him. Cassie does too.
He may not have liked anyone else, he'd try to bite visitors if they'd try to pet him. But he was amazing to me.
For 15.5 years he had never been sick. This last year was his downfall between diagnosed with Hyperthyroid in January and a scare thinking he swallowed something he should not have in august to diagnosis of kidney disease in September and most recently renal failure. I guess in a way I am grateful it all happened quickly and he didn't have to live years with the illnesses. I am still in shock, because he had always been an active cat that loved to eat and play. Then at 15.5 years old he fell and went. It happened fast, it happened suddenly. I honestly expected him to live to age 20.
I gave him gabapentin because he always gets so stressed out at the vet that he'd turn feral. I had been so worried that his last moments would be a stressful one for him, it was a great fear. The vet told me to give him as much as I can to knock him out. Thankfully, it worked. When we got to the vet, I don't think he knew where he was. He curled in my lap and we loved on each other until the time came and I stayed with him with kisses and pets and words of love. He went quickly, peacefully and without pain. I am grateful he wasn't stressed out and upset at the vet, I know I'd be a mess if he was.
I know this was the right choice. I have no guilt. He wasn't going to get better and I could not bear to see him deteriorate any further. There's no "what if" moments, I did everything I could with him in my care with SubQ fluids, meds and lots of food choices. In the end, I had to say good bye and let him rest pain free.
I opted for private cremation despite my wallet crying. I picked out an urn for him and I will see him again in a week or so. Normally I wouldn't do this for any pets (never did for my dogs growing up), but Monet was extra special, I wanted him back home. The co-op offered to let me bury him in the gardens, but if I should move I wouldn't want to leave him behind.
I am telling my other cat, Cassie, who's 14.5, to never get sick like this. Though, whatever happens I know is out of our control. She's not phased by his lack of presence, she was never bonded with him. I don't think she cares he's gone though there are moments she'd pause and look for him, expecting him to tackle her when she'd leave the litter box. She was confused as to why I put her food down in the kitchen rather than the bedroom (They had to be separated to eat), she'd run into the bedroom for food. She'll figure it out soon.
Mom and I went shopping after the vet. I wasn't ready to go home so quickly. She bought me cookies from Crumbl (honestly not worth the price tag, but still yummy). I'm grateful that she never finished her coffee and drove right out to be with me. The hours of wait until the vet appointment was the hardest. We waited and spent time in the garden together, petting and holding Monet. I don't know what I'd do without her, as I have no one else to turn to. I'd be doing this alone otherwise.
..
Someone on another forum asked me for his "backer card" a few days ago. His history and how he and I came together. This is what I wrote:
In 2009, I had lost my job. Laid off so they could hire an outside company for less. I had just moved out of my parents house into an apartment to be closer to my job. Now I had no income and rent to pay. Unemployment wasn't helping too much, just barely enough for food and necessities but not rent. I am grateful my parents helped me out financially, though I hate asking for money.
I fell into financial depression. My credit cards were mounting higher and higher every day, my rent went on my credit card. You can imagine how high it got (I was out of the job for 9 months, rent was 1,200. a month). I had numerous interviews that told me I am either too overqualified or too under qualified. I'd call my mom every night in tears. I was starting to have thoughts. Yes, serious thoughts.
One day, I decided to look at puppies to cheer me up. I knew I couldn't adopt a puppy in my rental, but dogs always cheered me up. I walk into this tiny shelter, and saw one lone kitten screaming. He was the only cat there, supposedly no one wanted him because he was just so loud. I saw him, he screamed at me. And told the staff I wanted to adopt him. Not even thinking it through, not considering the money, not even knowing a darn thing about cats. In fact, I hated cats. I was one of those "Ew, you let your cat on the counter" people. I knew I had to have him. I didn't even look at the puppies. This was on Memorial Day 2009.
I took him home, and from that moment on I stopped having thoughts and he became my baby. My first cat. My first "real" pet for lack of better terms. Sure, I've had dogs, but they were family pets and my parents took care of them. He supported me until I finally found a job. He helped me through with loves and laughter.
I decided on the name Monet because he's one of my favorite artist. Cassie is actually Picasso, but Picasso was kind of annoying to say and it turned into Cassie. I have a thing when I have pets I like to theme the names. The birds I've grown up with had names after the song Kokomo (I had Kokomo and Aruba). I've had lizards and their names rhymed (Jackie, Lacky, Whacky, Tacky). The cats I decided to name after artists, and I already planned on my next cat to be called Van Gogh, bonus if the ear is tipped.
...
It's hard. My heart hurts and there's a huge Monet-shaped hole. I know over time I will heal, I know each day will get easier and less painful. The pain may never go away, but it'll be less. And I know one day, probably sooner than I expect, I'll invite a new cat or two into my home to love and care for. I will always miss him, think about him and love him.
2009-2024
..
Add on.
I wanted to say thank you to
FeebysOwner
,
AbbysMom
,
neely
,
D
DeesCats
,
Meowmee
and the many others that I could list that supported me and followed me in the past week on my other topic. Please don't be upset if I didn't tag you, you know who you are. You've all had been helpful with educating me and showing me the way through. I have no idea how I would've done this without the support of this site and the people within.
I've donated his medicine, needles, kidney food and his gently used toys to my mom's friend who runs a cattery.
And now I am here, losing my baby, Monet.
I made the painful, yet right decision, yesterday to let him sleep and fly to the heavens.
I had a bit of a hard time sleeping last night, but I did get some sleep. Woke up (with a headache) and looked for Monet in his usual spots, even though I know he isn't there. I just imagine him laying on my laundry hamper or trotting down the hall to greet me for breakfast. I'm going to miss his every day routines. It felt weird to open one can of food and not two.
I'm going to miss the way he'd parkour off my wall during his zoomies. The way he'd lay against me while I'm on my computer and drinking coffee; I'd rub his belly. The way he'd hiss and smack at me if I pet him for one second too long. the "butt rubs" I'd give him whenever he's at his scratching post and his protests over kisses to his face. That one certain meow he'd give me for me to move whatever off my lap and move my arms so he could climb in for snuggles when on the couch. Or even the way he'd scold me whenever I'd scratch my underarms- I never figured out why he hated that. Most of all, I will miss the way he'd sleep with me spooned against my chest every single night. If I rolled over, he'd move over me to stay at my chest. Even his wake up calls 5 minutes before my alarm would go off.
He won two contests.
OMG!! Monet won AGAIN!!
Monet won!!!
Someone also submitted him on Icanhascheeseburger
A Little Privacy Please?
OK- Who submitted this photo to icanhascheezeburger?!????
Every single day I'd tell both of my cats that I love them. Every night before bed I'd say it with kisses. I know Monet knows I love him. Cassie does too.
He may not have liked anyone else, he'd try to bite visitors if they'd try to pet him. But he was amazing to me.
For 15.5 years he had never been sick. This last year was his downfall between diagnosed with Hyperthyroid in January and a scare thinking he swallowed something he should not have in august to diagnosis of kidney disease in September and most recently renal failure. I guess in a way I am grateful it all happened quickly and he didn't have to live years with the illnesses. I am still in shock, because he had always been an active cat that loved to eat and play. Then at 15.5 years old he fell and went. It happened fast, it happened suddenly. I honestly expected him to live to age 20.
I gave him gabapentin because he always gets so stressed out at the vet that he'd turn feral. I had been so worried that his last moments would be a stressful one for him, it was a great fear. The vet told me to give him as much as I can to knock him out. Thankfully, it worked. When we got to the vet, I don't think he knew where he was. He curled in my lap and we loved on each other until the time came and I stayed with him with kisses and pets and words of love. He went quickly, peacefully and without pain. I am grateful he wasn't stressed out and upset at the vet, I know I'd be a mess if he was.
I know this was the right choice. I have no guilt. He wasn't going to get better and I could not bear to see him deteriorate any further. There's no "what if" moments, I did everything I could with him in my care with SubQ fluids, meds and lots of food choices. In the end, I had to say good bye and let him rest pain free.
I opted for private cremation despite my wallet crying. I picked out an urn for him and I will see him again in a week or so. Normally I wouldn't do this for any pets (never did for my dogs growing up), but Monet was extra special, I wanted him back home. The co-op offered to let me bury him in the gardens, but if I should move I wouldn't want to leave him behind.
I am telling my other cat, Cassie, who's 14.5, to never get sick like this. Though, whatever happens I know is out of our control. She's not phased by his lack of presence, she was never bonded with him. I don't think she cares he's gone though there are moments she'd pause and look for him, expecting him to tackle her when she'd leave the litter box. She was confused as to why I put her food down in the kitchen rather than the bedroom (They had to be separated to eat), she'd run into the bedroom for food. She'll figure it out soon.
Mom and I went shopping after the vet. I wasn't ready to go home so quickly. She bought me cookies from Crumbl (honestly not worth the price tag, but still yummy). I'm grateful that she never finished her coffee and drove right out to be with me. The hours of wait until the vet appointment was the hardest. We waited and spent time in the garden together, petting and holding Monet. I don't know what I'd do without her, as I have no one else to turn to. I'd be doing this alone otherwise.
..
Someone on another forum asked me for his "backer card" a few days ago. His history and how he and I came together. This is what I wrote:
In 2009, I had lost my job. Laid off so they could hire an outside company for less. I had just moved out of my parents house into an apartment to be closer to my job. Now I had no income and rent to pay. Unemployment wasn't helping too much, just barely enough for food and necessities but not rent. I am grateful my parents helped me out financially, though I hate asking for money.
I fell into financial depression. My credit cards were mounting higher and higher every day, my rent went on my credit card. You can imagine how high it got (I was out of the job for 9 months, rent was 1,200. a month). I had numerous interviews that told me I am either too overqualified or too under qualified. I'd call my mom every night in tears. I was starting to have thoughts. Yes, serious thoughts.
One day, I decided to look at puppies to cheer me up. I knew I couldn't adopt a puppy in my rental, but dogs always cheered me up. I walk into this tiny shelter, and saw one lone kitten screaming. He was the only cat there, supposedly no one wanted him because he was just so loud. I saw him, he screamed at me. And told the staff I wanted to adopt him. Not even thinking it through, not considering the money, not even knowing a darn thing about cats. In fact, I hated cats. I was one of those "Ew, you let your cat on the counter" people. I knew I had to have him. I didn't even look at the puppies. This was on Memorial Day 2009.
I took him home, and from that moment on I stopped having thoughts and he became my baby. My first cat. My first "real" pet for lack of better terms. Sure, I've had dogs, but they were family pets and my parents took care of them. He supported me until I finally found a job. He helped me through with loves and laughter.
I decided on the name Monet because he's one of my favorite artist. Cassie is actually Picasso, but Picasso was kind of annoying to say and it turned into Cassie. I have a thing when I have pets I like to theme the names. The birds I've grown up with had names after the song Kokomo (I had Kokomo and Aruba). I've had lizards and their names rhymed (Jackie, Lacky, Whacky, Tacky). The cats I decided to name after artists, and I already planned on my next cat to be called Van Gogh, bonus if the ear is tipped.
...
It's hard. My heart hurts and there's a huge Monet-shaped hole. I know over time I will heal, I know each day will get easier and less painful. The pain may never go away, but it'll be less. And I know one day, probably sooner than I expect, I'll invite a new cat or two into my home to love and care for. I will always miss him, think about him and love him.
2009-2024
..
Add on.
I wanted to say thank you to
FeebysOwner
,
AbbysMom
,
neely
,
D
DeesCats
,
Meowmee
and the many others that I could list that supported me and followed me in the past week on my other topic. Please don't be upset if I didn't tag you, you know who you are. You've all had been helpful with educating me and showing me the way through. I have no idea how I would've done this without the support of this site and the people within.I've donated his medicine, needles, kidney food and his gently used toys to my mom's friend who runs a cattery.
Last edited by a moderator:
Reading your thread made me realize how important it is for us to support one another during a difficult time such as yours. I know this is true because we lost Carleton four months ago and the outpouring of love from members was more than appreciated, it was exceptionally touching.
RIP Magnificent Monet 
you did the right thing for him… He was a gorgeous cat and so loving my Wizard used to sleep right next to me and spoon with me with his paws on my hand every night of his life… Quinn did that the other night, but he was laying next to me not spooning, but he put his paw on my hand, which was so sweet
