I put my cat, Mingus, to sleep on Friday. He only just turned 8. I'm not sure if I'll ever get over this!
We just moved at the end of May, and noticed Mingus wasn't eating much of his canned food. He was never a big fan of the canned food like our other cat anyway, and thought he was stressed over the move.
After a while, I noticed he started feeling lighter to pick up (he was at least 15 lbs. before). I brought him to the vet, and she seemed to think it was also stress (his bloodwork looked fairly normal). He stayed at the same weight around 10 lbs. for a couple of weeks, vet recommended just watching him for a couple more weeks and trying to get him to eat; and then he started losing more, and was around 9 lbs. The vet suggested I bring him to a vet hospital about 25 minutes away for both xrays and an ultrasound, so I did. Immediately upon palpation of Mingus' stomach, this other vet felt a mass in his intestines. She told me she believed it was cancer, and gave me options to find out what kind it was and the treatment options. The tears immediately came to my eyes as soon as she said cancer. They did the ultrasound, and saw the mass. Then I had to leave him for a couple hours until they could do the x-ray and aspirate the mass to see what type of cancer he had. When I came back, she told me that the xrays showed the cancer didn't spread to his chest...good news. She was sending the cells from the aspirate out to find out what type of cancer he had.
I took the next day, Friday, off of work because I was so upset. Mingus lay quietly on the hallway floor all day. Crying, I'd lie down next to him and pet him, knowing these might be my final moments with him. He didn't show much emotion, just sort of stared into space. I finally got the call from the vet, she told me that it was malignant. They could do surgery to remove the mass, and some follow-up chemo. But the cancer will come back, she said. Tells me surgery would be roughly $2800-3000 (!). I asked what she'd suggest if we don't do the surgery, and she said I'd have to look at his quality of life. Cats love to eat, and he's not. He also had great difficulty getting up on our bed, which he always loved to do with us. I tell her I have to discuss it with my boyfriend, and I'll call her back. I called him and he was so upset like I was. We decided even if the surgery was $100 it would be selfish of us to delay it any longer, it was obvious he wasn't the happiest cat, even though he didn't appear to be in immediate pain. We decided to take him to the vet to be put to sleep right away before he feels any pain. The vet told me I was making the right decision, and to bring him in a couple of hours. I decided to go by myself, no use in both of us being upset. As I put him in the carrier and walked out the door, I was in shock and couldn't believe what I was doing.
The day before, when he was in his carrier next to me in the car, while bringing him for his x-rays, he would stare right up at me with big eyes, meowing, pretty much the whole way there. This time, he just sat quietly and stared into space. He never made a sound. Perhaps he was out of it, and this was indeed the right time?
They brought me in to the exam room as soon as I got there, one nurse frowns looking at Mingus as I walk by her and says 'oh, poor baby' (I guess she knew?)... I put him up on the table in the carrier, and a nurse gives me the papers to sign and gives me options of what to do with his body. I just can't stop the tears at this point. Then she takes him and says she's just putting in the IV needle, no drugs will be put in him yet. I wait for what feels like forever, probably was 5 minutes or so, and another nurse comes in with Mingus wrapped in a towel like a baby, facing out, his front leg all taped up, I didn't notice the needle. He's growling a tiny bit (first time he's made a sound), and I try to pet him and tell him everything's okay. I tell the nurse I can't watch, and she seems surprised and asks 'are you sure? It's really not that bad, it really looks like he's going to sleep.' I consider it, but I end up deciding it will be too traumatic for me. I'm close to hysteria at this point, crying and petting Mingus. I decide it's time for me to go, pet him one last time and I take his carrier and walk out. The receptionist lets me stay in another exam room while taking care of the bill. The doctor comes in and hugs me, reassures me I'm doing the right thing, and says she'll give Mingus a kiss for me. And then I leave with a feeling of such deep grief.
This weekend I've been feeling extremely guilty I didn't stay for his injection, trying to keep his last moments comforting with my presence. My boyfriend says I shouldn't; that he probably wouldn't even know I was there. I still wish I could go back and stay with him, just in case it would have helped. Anyone have any thoughts on this? Any reassurances?
Early morning and going to bed at night are the hardest times. He used to crawl up on my boyfriend's chest and lie on him with his head tucked under my BF's chin, purring the deepest purr. They were so loud, you couldn't hear the TV sometimes. I have a picture of the two of them in this position, I looked at it last night and cried. I couldn't find George, our other cat who is 7. I found him under the bed in the same spot Mingus would often be found for the past month he's been sick. I'm not sure if he's depressed over Mingus being gone. I play with George as much as I can now...he's as spazzy and playful as ever. My BF wants us to think about getting George a new playmate so he doesn't get too lonely while we're gone.
I miss Mingus terribly. I hope I didn't make this decision too hastily. I wish I could pet his super soft, silky grey fur one more time. I see bits of it here and there around the house, and I cry every time. (We use to always kid with him that we'll make him into luxurious mittens or something when he goes!)
Sorry so long...I feel a little better now sharing my story.
We just moved at the end of May, and noticed Mingus wasn't eating much of his canned food. He was never a big fan of the canned food like our other cat anyway, and thought he was stressed over the move.
After a while, I noticed he started feeling lighter to pick up (he was at least 15 lbs. before). I brought him to the vet, and she seemed to think it was also stress (his bloodwork looked fairly normal). He stayed at the same weight around 10 lbs. for a couple of weeks, vet recommended just watching him for a couple more weeks and trying to get him to eat; and then he started losing more, and was around 9 lbs. The vet suggested I bring him to a vet hospital about 25 minutes away for both xrays and an ultrasound, so I did. Immediately upon palpation of Mingus' stomach, this other vet felt a mass in his intestines. She told me she believed it was cancer, and gave me options to find out what kind it was and the treatment options. The tears immediately came to my eyes as soon as she said cancer. They did the ultrasound, and saw the mass. Then I had to leave him for a couple hours until they could do the x-ray and aspirate the mass to see what type of cancer he had. When I came back, she told me that the xrays showed the cancer didn't spread to his chest...good news. She was sending the cells from the aspirate out to find out what type of cancer he had.
I took the next day, Friday, off of work because I was so upset. Mingus lay quietly on the hallway floor all day. Crying, I'd lie down next to him and pet him, knowing these might be my final moments with him. He didn't show much emotion, just sort of stared into space. I finally got the call from the vet, she told me that it was malignant. They could do surgery to remove the mass, and some follow-up chemo. But the cancer will come back, she said. Tells me surgery would be roughly $2800-3000 (!). I asked what she'd suggest if we don't do the surgery, and she said I'd have to look at his quality of life. Cats love to eat, and he's not. He also had great difficulty getting up on our bed, which he always loved to do with us. I tell her I have to discuss it with my boyfriend, and I'll call her back. I called him and he was so upset like I was. We decided even if the surgery was $100 it would be selfish of us to delay it any longer, it was obvious he wasn't the happiest cat, even though he didn't appear to be in immediate pain. We decided to take him to the vet to be put to sleep right away before he feels any pain. The vet told me I was making the right decision, and to bring him in a couple of hours. I decided to go by myself, no use in both of us being upset. As I put him in the carrier and walked out the door, I was in shock and couldn't believe what I was doing.
The day before, when he was in his carrier next to me in the car, while bringing him for his x-rays, he would stare right up at me with big eyes, meowing, pretty much the whole way there. This time, he just sat quietly and stared into space. He never made a sound. Perhaps he was out of it, and this was indeed the right time?
They brought me in to the exam room as soon as I got there, one nurse frowns looking at Mingus as I walk by her and says 'oh, poor baby' (I guess she knew?)... I put him up on the table in the carrier, and a nurse gives me the papers to sign and gives me options of what to do with his body. I just can't stop the tears at this point. Then she takes him and says she's just putting in the IV needle, no drugs will be put in him yet. I wait for what feels like forever, probably was 5 minutes or so, and another nurse comes in with Mingus wrapped in a towel like a baby, facing out, his front leg all taped up, I didn't notice the needle. He's growling a tiny bit (first time he's made a sound), and I try to pet him and tell him everything's okay. I tell the nurse I can't watch, and she seems surprised and asks 'are you sure? It's really not that bad, it really looks like he's going to sleep.' I consider it, but I end up deciding it will be too traumatic for me. I'm close to hysteria at this point, crying and petting Mingus. I decide it's time for me to go, pet him one last time and I take his carrier and walk out. The receptionist lets me stay in another exam room while taking care of the bill. The doctor comes in and hugs me, reassures me I'm doing the right thing, and says she'll give Mingus a kiss for me. And then I leave with a feeling of such deep grief.
This weekend I've been feeling extremely guilty I didn't stay for his injection, trying to keep his last moments comforting with my presence. My boyfriend says I shouldn't; that he probably wouldn't even know I was there. I still wish I could go back and stay with him, just in case it would have helped. Anyone have any thoughts on this? Any reassurances?
Early morning and going to bed at night are the hardest times. He used to crawl up on my boyfriend's chest and lie on him with his head tucked under my BF's chin, purring the deepest purr. They were so loud, you couldn't hear the TV sometimes. I have a picture of the two of them in this position, I looked at it last night and cried. I couldn't find George, our other cat who is 7. I found him under the bed in the same spot Mingus would often be found for the past month he's been sick. I'm not sure if he's depressed over Mingus being gone. I play with George as much as I can now...he's as spazzy and playful as ever. My BF wants us to think about getting George a new playmate so he doesn't get too lonely while we're gone.
I miss Mingus terribly. I hope I didn't make this decision too hastily. I wish I could pet his super soft, silky grey fur one more time. I see bits of it here and there around the house, and I cry every time. (We use to always kid with him that we'll make him into luxurious mittens or something when he goes!)
Sorry so long...I feel a little better now sharing my story.
