I announced this yesterday, but here's a thread about it:
Regrettably, I had to put my cat down after the pain of seeing her really ill for weeks and weeks. In July, she was having loose bowel movements and she kept vomiting, but I thought it was the dog food that made her sick and caused inflammation in her intestines. Not only that, but she had an overactive thyroid, so we thought that was the cause as well, so we'd put her on thyroid medication, and eventually that problem got better, but the overall situation ended up being a hydra. Not only was she having a rare reaction to her thyroid medication (it was making her liver overwork), she stopped eating and drinking. Around August, we took her back to the vet, and they suspected that she either had an infection, or fatty liver, so she was put on antibiotics. Her medicine helped a bit, as she was eating again, but after she was done, she stopped again. She was put on more antibiotics, but there was no improvement this time. Not only I started to force-feed her, she was also drinking excessively, and from experience, I knew there was something dreadfully wrong with her.
Just on Friday, we took her to a specialist, hoping that she was only suffering from a real bad infection, but I just knew days before that she had to be put down, because she was so weak, sad and in pain. Results showed that she had so much fluid in her gallbladder, which would've been a simple, yet incredibly expensive fix. After, there was the fact that her liver was enlarged, which made things look a bit grim; however, the real kicker was that she had intestinal cancer. I knew then that there was absolutely no hope. I did not want to give her chemo and put her on medication that would only give her an additional two years or so to live, while being in constant pain. I couldn't put her through that; I made the difficult choice to put her down, just four days shy from what would've been her 11th birthday. She was only ten years old...
Zoey, as a kitten
Zoey, back in 2015
Last picture I took of Zoey, few days before she was put down
Personally, the fact that she was sick, in pain, and had to be put down isn't what truly hurts; it's everything else.
I had gotten her a day before my 16th birthday, and we were the best of friends from the start. She saw me go through so much pain all those years ago. Around 7 or 8 years ago, I was going through such a difficult time, where suicide was considered almost on a daily basis, but the fact that Zoey was there for me and loved me no matter what, I couldn't do that to her, ending my own life out of despair. Whenever I had thoughts or considerations of suicide, I thought of her (sometimes look at her), and tell myself that I couldn't do such a thing to her. She saved my life, for she was there for me and comforted me, no matter what. She was the one true friend I ever had when no one else was there during the past eleven years. I do wonder if it pained her to see me in pain, and it surely pained me when I saw her in pain. We had each other's backs; we were there for each other. And now, it's all gone, and that's what hurts the most. I lost my best friend, my companion, security and emotional support. I was there with her during her passing. I held her tight, hugged her, kissed her, said my goodbyes to her. She died in my arms, with her head in the palm of my hand. I just loved her way too much, and I'm having an incredibly hard time coping with her death. I lost more than several pets before, but this is by far the hardest. And personally, I don't think I'll ever fully heal and get over her death. She was young...
Regrettably, I had to put my cat down after the pain of seeing her really ill for weeks and weeks. In July, she was having loose bowel movements and she kept vomiting, but I thought it was the dog food that made her sick and caused inflammation in her intestines. Not only that, but she had an overactive thyroid, so we thought that was the cause as well, so we'd put her on thyroid medication, and eventually that problem got better, but the overall situation ended up being a hydra. Not only was she having a rare reaction to her thyroid medication (it was making her liver overwork), she stopped eating and drinking. Around August, we took her back to the vet, and they suspected that she either had an infection, or fatty liver, so she was put on antibiotics. Her medicine helped a bit, as she was eating again, but after she was done, she stopped again. She was put on more antibiotics, but there was no improvement this time. Not only I started to force-feed her, she was also drinking excessively, and from experience, I knew there was something dreadfully wrong with her.
Just on Friday, we took her to a specialist, hoping that she was only suffering from a real bad infection, but I just knew days before that she had to be put down, because she was so weak, sad and in pain. Results showed that she had so much fluid in her gallbladder, which would've been a simple, yet incredibly expensive fix. After, there was the fact that her liver was enlarged, which made things look a bit grim; however, the real kicker was that she had intestinal cancer. I knew then that there was absolutely no hope. I did not want to give her chemo and put her on medication that would only give her an additional two years or so to live, while being in constant pain. I couldn't put her through that; I made the difficult choice to put her down, just four days shy from what would've been her 11th birthday. She was only ten years old...
Zoey, as a kitten
Zoey, back in 2015
Last picture I took of Zoey, few days before she was put down
Personally, the fact that she was sick, in pain, and had to be put down isn't what truly hurts; it's everything else.
I had gotten her a day before my 16th birthday, and we were the best of friends from the start. She saw me go through so much pain all those years ago. Around 7 or 8 years ago, I was going through such a difficult time, where suicide was considered almost on a daily basis, but the fact that Zoey was there for me and loved me no matter what, I couldn't do that to her, ending my own life out of despair. Whenever I had thoughts or considerations of suicide, I thought of her (sometimes look at her), and tell myself that I couldn't do such a thing to her. She saved my life, for she was there for me and comforted me, no matter what. She was the one true friend I ever had when no one else was there during the past eleven years. I do wonder if it pained her to see me in pain, and it surely pained me when I saw her in pain. We had each other's backs; we were there for each other. And now, it's all gone, and that's what hurts the most. I lost my best friend, my companion, security and emotional support. I was there with her during her passing. I held her tight, hugged her, kissed her, said my goodbyes to her. She died in my arms, with her head in the palm of my hand. I just loved her way too much, and I'm having an incredibly hard time coping with her death. I lost more than several pets before, but this is by far the hardest. And personally, I don't think I'll ever fully heal and get over her death. She was young...
