Letting My Beautiful Boy Go Yesterday, Grief & Guilt

[LisaAnne]

Hi everyone,
I am new to this site. I am filled with grief and guilt. I had my baby, Winston, put to sleep yesterday and have so much guilt over it. He was 15 and had a lot of health issues in the past few years. He had a lot of close calls in the past year and always rallied. But, this past week, he went downhill really fast. A week ago he was eating well, sitting out on the porch, etc.. The vet had told me in June that he was "in hospice" now. I didn't want to bring him in there for more painful tests and blood draws when there was nothing more that could be done for him, he was not going to be cured. He had heart disease (congenital heart defect), diabetes, arthritis, pancreatitis (this is what kept coming back over the past year and I think was what took him). After Wednesday, he lay in the same place, on a little bed I made for him in the living room with his water bowl next to him. He didn't want to eat anymore and couldn't get up to go to the litter box. I prayed for him to go peacefully in his sleep. But, I contacted the vet to come out on Saturday (yesterday)in case. In the morning I had so many doubts still, he seemed so close to the end- I didn't want his last feeling to be another needle. When the vet got here she said that he was most likely in pain because he was swollen (tummy and paws) from fluid leaking inside him. I didn't want to let go, but, I feared that he would suffer for days - even hours would be too much to put him through and I was also afraid that he'd have a seizure or something worse. So, I made the decision, trying to do what I honestly thought was best for him. She had trouble getting the IV into his arm due to the fluid and then put it in his leg and he meowed and was gone. I am so in fear that he was scared at the end when I wanted so badly for him to go in peace and wonder if I should have let him go on his own, with no needles. Any insight or advice would really be appreciated. Winston was so special and precious to me and I tried every day to do what was best for him and wanted to keep him from pain at the end. I'm so torn up. Thank you.

 

[di and bob]

I think you did everything exactly right because you did everything out of love and concern. I, too, kept my 17 year old cat at home. I,too, wanted him to be surrounded by the familiar and those who loved him when he was called. But cats fight death, they fight with everything they have. You were right to end Winston's pain. I wish I had a called the vet and had him come, even though it was in the middle of the night on a Sunday. He did have us there, loving and comforting him, and your Winston had you. I guess what i am trying to say is that no matter which way you would have went, you would still have the guilt and should haves, could haves. Because they come anyway, they come with grief. You did what you thought best, you did everything out of love you had for that boy and he knows it. it is over now and he is at peace, still sending you love along that bond that will forever hold your souls together, following a new path now but one that will always parallel your own.
None of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. We need to spend every second loving and enjoying the precious life that is allowed us. Send your sweet Winston thoughts and prayers of that joy you find in life so he too can continue to live on through you. Try not to dwell on the end, to send him tears and sorrow and hide the love you have for each other under the darkness of grief. Concentrate on the happiness he brought to your life, use those precious memories for comfort, to bring that love out into the sunshine and allow it to bloom and grow. Don't let death win, make his life more important than the death, because it is. "death cannot take that which never dies", and you know your love for him will never die.
He was in your life for a reason. Think if you would have never met him at all. What a loss that would have been. Just as you would want for him if you were the first to go, he wants for you. Because he loves you and that is what love is. So go forward into the future and take that legacy he left you and let it help you bring that love forward, to spread it and watch it grow. And he will be right there beside you, helping you along the way.
My heart goes out to you, I know how much this hurts. Time is the only thing that helps, and right now you need to just get through one day at a time. You will learn a new life order, you WILL get through this. Especially with a little help from your friends. Take care...... RIP precious Winston. You will never be forgotten, you will always have a secure place in a loving heart. May the good Lord bless and keep you, until you meet again!

 

[les26]

I am so sorry that you lost your special friend, it is always so tough at the end to make the right choices but you did the right thing, he was not living anymore, just surviving, and you moved him on to the next life and he is relieved to be out of his pain riddled body and is fine now, just fine, and you will see him again one day and it will be wonderful. And I believe the little meow right before he passed was him saying "solong, thank you, I love you and will see you again", he is fine now just fine. And of course it will take a long time to come to terms with this which is normal, but we all understand and are here for you.

"Their last breath on Earth is their first breath in Heaven"

I hope that your heart heals a bit more each day, Lord Bless you......

 

[Furballsmom]

You gave a very special gift to your baby. It meant that his pain and suffering are over, but it means you're hurting now. You saved him from further struggles and bless you for that.
RIP Winston, you lived in love and you left this Earth with love. Your grace and strength have been returned to you, and you'll always be there, walking beside your person

 

[Mamanyt1953]

Rest you gentle, Winston, dream you deep. You walk in someone's heart forever.

No, that "meow" wasn't pain. It was surprise that the pain had ceased. It was a final blessing to you for making that happen, for helping him make that first step into his New Adventure. Love does not die. Not ever. It changes form and continues on, still Love. Love abides. Winston has put off his heavy coat of flesh that could no longer support his great heart and sweet spirit. He dances now on starlight, joyous, in a place where time has no meaning, until you, also, dance there with him. Dance, sweet Winston, dance.

 

[Timmer]

Dear LisaAnne, I am so sorry for the loss of your beautiful boy, Winston. He really is lovely. I want to tell you don't feel guilty, but I cannot tell you how to feel. I can tell you that I let my Timmer go last January and I was still struggling with grief until recently and I finally went on anti-depressants. I think they are helping to give clarity to things, so I want to try to impart that to you. My Timmer was in so much pain when he was sick. Last night I laid in bed focusing on that and remembering the look of sheer pain on his face. I wish I had let him go sooner because there was no help or cure for him. Instead I put him through medical procedures that never helped. You did the right thing for your sweetheart by letting him go, and in my mind from what you are telling me, it sounded like the right time to do it.

This morning when I woke up I thought to myself "it's really time to let go of that image of suffering because you can't do anything about it. It's over with." Like I am sure you had wonderful, loving memories with your handsome Winston. In time I pray those surface to your mind. It is natural to feel what you are feeling. You loved him! It's all still very raw for you. And it's so very very hard to have them gone. I understand. I still mourn for Timmer, too. Many of us do. I had a cat for 18 years and she passed oh, probably 15 years ago and now when I think of her I feel a fondness, not pain. You just have to process things at your own pace, you know. Don't let anyone rush you into "getting over it." When Timmer passed I started a journal of all my thoughts and feelings and that helped me a lot. Better than trying to talk to people about it who no longer wanted to listen. And you have this community here and we will listen.

 

[betsygee]

It's easier said than done, but please try to not feel guilty for your decision. I believe it's a kindness, and a loving act, to let them go when we know they're suffering and in pain. I've had to do it more than once for beloved kitties.

RIP, little Winston. You were truly loved.

 

[wt1964]

If you were there with him in his final moments, be assured he was less scared. Allowing them to "go naturally" is a gamble, because it can be a horrible physical agony for them. In these cases, even though we know letting them go is the right thing, there is probably no great feeling of guilt than that of knowing that we had to make that terrible decision. The day I had to let my Lucy go was the worst day of my life. She was just under 20 years old. She was my baby and my companion for nearly half of my life. She did not do well with vet visits. So even though I prayed that she would go naturally, but having read up on her ailments (thyroid and kidney disease, the latter of the two was almost a guarantee that she would have suffered terribly), I prayed and looked for a sign, which she gave me. I protected her for two decades, and I was determined to shield her from pain, if at all possible. So I made arrangements for a vet to come to my apartment to assist in her final moments. For what it was, it was as peaceful as I could have hoped for, and we were able to do it so that she felt no pain from injections. She went peacefully in my arms. But even though I feel that I did all the right things (and at the right time), now, even 17 months later I still feel guilt for having to end her life. I'm afraid guilt is just a natural bi-product. Time has eased my grief some, but not so much my guilt. But, whenever I feel that guilt, I look at the list of her of her symptoms, which increased in her final year, and I remind myself that I did all I could for her. But it's a cycle, knowing I had to do the right thing, and being plagued by the guilt of that decision. Try to find comfort in all that Wilson meant to you, and all that you meant to him. Hopefully in time, the guilt will diminish. Find comfort where you can. It's all we can do.

 

[gordonsmom]

You did what was best, and took away his pain. The following is an eloquent post by another member of this site - Gareth's post has been shared so often over the years as it has given many of us comfort. To give credit where it is due, this is copied and posted from another thread; you can see the original here:

When the moment comes...

A note for those who have lost a cat, or are worrying about when that moment comes.

When we decide to share our lives with a cat, we are making a decision to break our own hearts. That's not melodrama. At some point, that bundle of fur will get under your skin. It doesn't matter how big and tough you are. I've seen British Army Special Forces soldiers cradling their beloved cats with tears in their eyes, hoping against hope that something will put off that fateful moment when they must part. I've seen busy mothers of five children who rule their household with an iron fist reduced to bawling children because they miss their cat. At some point, that cat will work its magic. Its eyes will connect with yours. Its head will rub against yours. Its heart will connect with yours. At that point, you secretly swear your devotion to the animal. It comes under your protection, and you will sacrifice anything to keep it safe. In return, the cat will share that look with you. The one that says "I love you too". That's a special gift, and unless you have been loved by a cat, it is a meaningless one. But if you HAVE been loved by a cat, then you know the value of that gift. It means that the cat will give you a lifetime of love. They will literally spend their entire life in your company. You will feed them, protect them, keep them warm and safe. And they will give you their entire life.

Their entire life. That's their commitment. And what is yours? Easy, you commit to the knowledge that at some point in the future you will be given a terrible decision to make. That decision will be the last you make for your cat. That decision will result in a transference of pain and suffering. You will take away all the pain and suffering of your cat, and you will begin a process of pain and suffering yourself. That's the price for the look. When they look in your eyes with love, that terrible decision is the price. It's a moment that all cat owners dread, but a moment that comes to us all.

So should we feel bad when our cat passes on? Of course we should. We are losing someone we loved, and someone that loved us. The grief will be terrible, but it will be transient. It WILL pass. You will then be left with memories. Some of these memories will bring you tears. Some of these memories will make you laugh. But the pain and the suffering will fade.

So when the moment comes, you have to find a strength within yourself. You're about to do something incredible. You're about to give a display of love and devotion rarely equalled. You will be given a decision about whether to allow your pet to suffer and thus save your own pain, or whether to remove all pain and suffering from the cat, and take it on yourself. If the time is right, you will know, and you will make the right decision. And then you should be so proud of yourself. In the midst of your own grief, and suffering, you should take such strength from the knowledge that when the moment came, you decided to choose your cat's welfare in favour of your own. What greater love can any pet owner display?

So for those that think they have to make that decision soon, take strength. Know that your moment has come. The moment where you wrap up all the love and devotion you have for your cat into one incredible moment and do what's right. For those on the other side of that decision, then well done. I'm proud of you, and your cat would be proud of you, too. Your cat is forever pain-free. You are in pain, but I promise it will pass. Don't worry, some of us know how bad that pain is. You are not alone, and we know how much it hurts. It's terrible, but it will pass. Then you will have the memories, which you should treasure.

I like to think one day I will be re-united with my pets. There will be no crashing together as we run towards each other as in the rainbow bridge poem. There will be no kisses. We will simply give each other that look. The look that says "I love you, and now I know how much you love me"

 

[Bella's Mommy]

I'm sorry for your loss

 

[TheresaB96]

Hi everyone,
I am new to this site. I am filled with grief and guilt. I had my baby, Winston, put to sleep yesterday and have so much guilt over it. He was 15 and had a lot of health issues in the past few years. He had a lot of close calls in the past year and always rallied. But, this past week, he went downhill really fast. A week ago he was eating well, sitting out on the porch, etc.. The vet had told me in June that he was "in hospice" now. I didn't want to bring him in there for more painful tests and blood draws when there was nothing more that could be done for him, he was not going to be cured. He had heart disease (congenital heart defect), diabetes, arthritis, pancreatitis (this is what kept coming back over the past year and I think was what took him). After Wednesday, he lay in the same place, on a little bed I made for him in the living room with his water bowl next to him. He didn't want to eat anymore and couldn't get up to go to the litter box. I prayed for him

I am so sorry to hear about Winston's passing. He sounds like such a Regal boy. I am 3 weeks out from losing my beloved 16 year old Midi. (Maybe she met him at the Bridge!?) When I knew her Time had come, I tried to find a vet that would make that house call. There aren't d any here who wouldn't get lost finding me., So....Mom drove us to the vet for that last time. It was hard to even let her out of sight for the placing of the catheter for the sedative, but, I trust this vet clinic, and have for 16 years. I was able to be with Midi even as Dr. Lowery administered the pentobarb. The entire time, I'm thinking, "Am I doing this right? ShoudS I have done this last month? Will she forgive me? What will my cat loving friends think?" The guilt is a real thing. I completely understand. I think it is just one stage of MANY in the greif process. I wouldn't let it own us ... We saw our kitties declining, and thought dignity better thn suffering. So....I think we both did as best we could. I habe told myself for two weeks that it was a choice of dignity. Midi was going blind from cataracts...which caused missing the box, and she had begun losing weight again for a second time. I had watched her and tended to the weight issue by feeding her protein rich foods and specific diet. When it quit working, I knew my girl was in trouble it became a quality of life issue at that point i think you also knew this with Winston, and did right by him. God bless you and, I hope He sends you another fuzze very soon to help ease the loss.

 

[baxtersmom]

I understand how hard it is to make that decision to end their suffering. I lost my Peanut Saturday night from mouth cancer. For the last few weeks of her life I hand fed her and kept her in her soft bed very near me at all times. She slept all day and all night for those weeks, only to get up to go to the bathroom. Near the end she didn't even get out of her bed to be fed. She would just lay in her bed and eat out of my hand. I had finally made he decision that it was time to end her suffering on Monday but she chose to go on her own Saturday night. Even if you had chosen to let Winston go on his own it wouldn't have been as peaceful as we would wish it would be. Peanut became restless around 9pm and couldn't get comfortable. Soon she wasn't able to stand up and would cry out when she tried and fell over. I could tell she was very scared but I stayed by her side, talking to her, stroking her and doing my best to keep her calm. Eventually she couldn't hold her head up, so I held it for her in my hand. Before she passed she had what seemed to be a couple of seizures. At 12:40am she drew her last breath. So what I'm trying to say is that no matter which decision you would have made, whether to have him put down or to let him go on his own, you would be questioning if you made the right choice. I didn't want to put Peanut through the agony of the crate and drive to the vet as she was so terrified of it all. I had really hoped that she would just go to sleep and not wake up, but that's not how it happened. It wasn't a terrible experience but it wasn't as peaceful as I would have liked it to be. Since it was so late on a Saturday and the fact that she went within a couple of hours, getting her to a vet wasn't possible but I still wonder if I should have taken her earlier. Losing our precious feline companions is never easy no matter how it happens. Winston is now free from pain and running happily in a beautiful field chasing butterflies. He'll always be with you in your heart.