- Joined
- Mar 31, 2016
- Messages
- 2,117
- Purraise
- 2,891
It's over.
The emergency vet, they were very nice. The receptionist, the tech and the vet all said I could spend as long with her as I wanted. But at that point it was just drawing it out, so I did it immediately. It was very quick and very peaceful, very very peaceful.
I brought her home, I heard the boys will do better if they know she's dead, they won't spend months looking for her. As I was unscrewing the top of the carrier I swear I heard her meow twice. Not the soft pitiful meow she had all day today, her usual b***y meow. I brought the boys down, Midway sniffed twice and ran halfway up the stairs. Montressor sniffed for a very long time and then slunk away up the stairs. Both the boys were worked up, there was nearly a fight. Midway eventually came back down, by then I was putting the top on, he sniffed through the air holes, then gave the carrier a wide berth.
Roughly 2000 the only pets we had were hamsters. We lived on the second floor and had a deck roughly 10 feet by 10 feet. Some very industrious spider spun a web across the entire deck, and as I was standing in the doorway on the phone describing it I heard a cat meowing. A gray and white cat trotted up the stairs, trotted right on past me, trotted to my coffee table, lay down under it, and only then did she stop meowing. Meanwhile I was in shock that a cat walked by me and claimed my coffee table.
We checked with the SPCA shelter, all the local vets and the neighbors. No one was looking for her. Some of the neighbors thought she was already ours as she had been apparently hanging out near our door for a week. Someone heard that someone else had seen a cat and a kitten dumped, the kitten had been caught but the cat had disappeared. We assume that was her.
The vet looked at her teeth, said she looked to be three years old. She was a little underweight and had fleas and ear mites and a broken claw, not spayed, but was in very good health. The shelter said her chances for adoption were not good, so even though we weren't allowed pets (other than the hamsters) we simply hid her from the landlord.
She had been trained to stay out of bedrooms, but she would sleep in the hall in a way she could watch us. She had severe separation anxiety, really really bad. My solution was to get her a friend that wouldn't separate from her and brought home Montressor. It was hatred on sight. I didn't know the right way to introduce cats back then, I simply opened the carrier. She hissed, he growled. By the end of the day he'd walk up to her and give this high pitched friendly meow, she would hiss, and his meow would drop a couple of octaves as he got darn near on his belly. But literally instantly overnight the separation anxiety was gone.
They had their troubles, she never openly warmed up to him. I finally got him a playmate and by some miracle it worked out. But when we had a roommate with cats, if they looked like they were picking on Montressor, she'd charge them growling. Montressor was hers and hers alone to pick on. She even did that while still in the end stages of recovering from major surgery.
She had mammary cancer in 2009, surgical removal. It took four years to come back, 2013. Surgical removal then too. Last year another lump was found. I opted not to biopsy, but since it grew and a second one showed up and they felt the same, it was pretty much a guarantee that the mammary cancer was back. That's not what made her sick though. I opted not to find out what was going on and to start palliative treatment. At her age and with her having cancer, how much could her life be extended and at what cost? That was Friday, she got worse dramatically over the weekend, much faster than I think the vet expected.
I feel guilt in that I was the one that made a decision to end a life. But it was time. She was able to walk, she tried a weak protest over being in a car, but she was unhappy and suffering. She didn't even try to fight the vet tech taking her out of the room for catheter insertion or the vet holding her when she was brought back in. She didn't move, she didn't meow in protest.
And here's the kicker. I thought she was 18, I thought I got her 15 years ago. While looking for photos to add to this post, I found a date on the oldest picture I had of her. January 2001. She walked into our home during the summer months, which must have been 2000. With the three year age the vet gave her, that means she's 20 years old.
I hope everyone is right and there is a rainbow bridge. With lots of canned tuna and red light lasers, and alone time space for a cat that never stopped protesting the boys and never let us forget that she wanted to be an only cat.
Shadow, I love you.
The emergency vet, they were very nice. The receptionist, the tech and the vet all said I could spend as long with her as I wanted. But at that point it was just drawing it out, so I did it immediately. It was very quick and very peaceful, very very peaceful.
I brought her home, I heard the boys will do better if they know she's dead, they won't spend months looking for her. As I was unscrewing the top of the carrier I swear I heard her meow twice. Not the soft pitiful meow she had all day today, her usual b***y meow. I brought the boys down, Midway sniffed twice and ran halfway up the stairs. Montressor sniffed for a very long time and then slunk away up the stairs. Both the boys were worked up, there was nearly a fight. Midway eventually came back down, by then I was putting the top on, he sniffed through the air holes, then gave the carrier a wide berth.
Roughly 2000 the only pets we had were hamsters. We lived on the second floor and had a deck roughly 10 feet by 10 feet. Some very industrious spider spun a web across the entire deck, and as I was standing in the doorway on the phone describing it I heard a cat meowing. A gray and white cat trotted up the stairs, trotted right on past me, trotted to my coffee table, lay down under it, and only then did she stop meowing. Meanwhile I was in shock that a cat walked by me and claimed my coffee table.
We checked with the SPCA shelter, all the local vets and the neighbors. No one was looking for her. Some of the neighbors thought she was already ours as she had been apparently hanging out near our door for a week. Someone heard that someone else had seen a cat and a kitten dumped, the kitten had been caught but the cat had disappeared. We assume that was her.
The vet looked at her teeth, said she looked to be three years old. She was a little underweight and had fleas and ear mites and a broken claw, not spayed, but was in very good health. The shelter said her chances for adoption were not good, so even though we weren't allowed pets (other than the hamsters) we simply hid her from the landlord.
She had been trained to stay out of bedrooms, but she would sleep in the hall in a way she could watch us. She had severe separation anxiety, really really bad. My solution was to get her a friend that wouldn't separate from her and brought home Montressor. It was hatred on sight. I didn't know the right way to introduce cats back then, I simply opened the carrier. She hissed, he growled. By the end of the day he'd walk up to her and give this high pitched friendly meow, she would hiss, and his meow would drop a couple of octaves as he got darn near on his belly. But literally instantly overnight the separation anxiety was gone.
They had their troubles, she never openly warmed up to him. I finally got him a playmate and by some miracle it worked out. But when we had a roommate with cats, if they looked like they were picking on Montressor, she'd charge them growling. Montressor was hers and hers alone to pick on. She even did that while still in the end stages of recovering from major surgery.
She had mammary cancer in 2009, surgical removal. It took four years to come back, 2013. Surgical removal then too. Last year another lump was found. I opted not to biopsy, but since it grew and a second one showed up and they felt the same, it was pretty much a guarantee that the mammary cancer was back. That's not what made her sick though. I opted not to find out what was going on and to start palliative treatment. At her age and with her having cancer, how much could her life be extended and at what cost? That was Friday, she got worse dramatically over the weekend, much faster than I think the vet expected.
I feel guilt in that I was the one that made a decision to end a life. But it was time. She was able to walk, she tried a weak protest over being in a car, but she was unhappy and suffering. She didn't even try to fight the vet tech taking her out of the room for catheter insertion or the vet holding her when she was brought back in. She didn't move, she didn't meow in protest.
And here's the kicker. I thought she was 18, I thought I got her 15 years ago. While looking for photos to add to this post, I found a date on the oldest picture I had of her. January 2001. She walked into our home during the summer months, which must have been 2000. With the three year age the vet gave her, that means she's 20 years old.
I hope everyone is right and there is a rainbow bridge. With lots of canned tuna and red light lasers, and alone time space for a cat that never stopped protesting the boys and never let us forget that she wanted to be an only cat.
Shadow, I love you.
Condolences on losing Shadow - what a trooper she was, cancer survivor and all. King Solomon seemed to think that animals go to Heaven and he was the wisest man ever! You were wise to bring her home to allow the boys to grieve. Animals mourn, too. I admire your strength in giving her a dignified, easy passing. 
