A few days ago I had to put my almost 10 year old cat, an orange cat named Bailey, to sleep. We rescued him when he was 1. This guy was practically my best friend and the connection we had was unreal. He followed me everywhere in the house. He slept with me, sat on my lap all the time, sprawled out on my keyboard when I was working, waited outside the shower for me to finish, and was always there waiting for me when I came home. Whenever I was sad or had a bad day, he somehow seemed to know and was even closer to me. Everyone that walked into my house fell in love with this guy immediately. He was hands down the coolest, friendliest, most unique, fun and affectionate cat I've ever known.
This past Saturday, I noticed he had a weird limp and labored breathing. He's always been an indoor cat and I didn't hear him fall or anything. I did some research online and wasn't able to figure out any reason for it. Within a couple hours, he was getting better. He still had a slight limp and was kinda standoffish but by that evening the limp was gone and he was back to his normal self.
Fast forward a few days, I went to bed shortly after watching Bailey running around, playing, having a great time. I fall asleep, then am awoken at around 4am by the sound of him struggling to get up on my bed. He finally got up and lied down near my feet. I called his name and he kinda crawled/slid up to my side. Now I could hear that he was breathing very fast and heavily. I touched him, hoping to calm him down, and he cried out. He then pulled himself off the bed and in the darkness I could tell he wasn't using his back legs. I saw him crawl out of my room and then he went down two flights of stairs to the basement. I went down to check on him. I could hear him breathing before I even got halfway there. It sounded like he was hyperventilating. By this time, I was starting to freak out. I quickly got dressed and put him in his carrier to take him to the animal hospital. It was a short ride, but he was crying out the whole time.
I waited while the vet checked him out. She came out to tell me that she had given him pain meds to calm him down. Then she delivered the devastating news: he had thrown a blood clot which had lodged in his lower body and had cut off circulation to his back legs. His body temperature was very low and his hind legs were cold.
She said that it was likely caused by heart disease and that there weren't many options. The only procedure they could do was very invasive and had less than a 30% survival rate. There was no guarantee that he would regain use of his back legs and there was a very high probability of reoccurrence.
I couldn't put him through all that, just for my own selfish reasons. I called my ex-girlfriend, who was there when we rescued him and was there for the first 8 years of our time with him, but had just recently moved out.
She was there quickly and we spent some time talking to and petting Bailey, knowing the whole time what we beeded to do. It was, by far, the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I didn't think I'd want to be in the room for the final moments. She convinced me otherwise, saying that this cat and I were so close that, not only would I regret not being there, but that Bailey might find some comfort in having me there. So I held him and watched the vet put the fluids into his IV. Within a couple minutes, he was gone. I was a wreck. It felt like the whole ordeal had taken an eternity, but it had only been 2 hours since I had woken up.
I've had cats pass away before, but this one is different. I've been really struggling with it. I have two other cats, but this one was my guy, my shadow. I see him everywhere I look in the house - in all his normal, favorite spots. My house feels so empty now that his powerful, unique personality is gone. He was friends with everyone. But the other two cats don't particularly get along with each other, but that's a story for another day.
All this is compounded by the fact that my girlfriend, who had lived with me for the last 10 years, had recently moved out. Bailey had helped me cope with this breakup and now they're both gone. Now I'm here in a quiet and relatively empty house, with two cats that don't like each other, trying to go to sleep in a bed that my favorite pet ever basically had a stroke in, and with an all-too-clear memory of watching him struggle and suffer through his final, painful moments. This has easily been the hardest 4-5 day period of my life and I am at a loss. This has been absolutely devastating and it seems to only be getting harder every day. I'm just aimlessly wandering around my house trying to pick up all the pieces of my broken heart.
Anyway, thanks to anyone that is still reading after so many words. I'm really glad I found this forum, if for no other reason than it makes me realize that I'm not crazy for feeling this way. I hope that telling my story will help me cope with this devastating loss.
This past Saturday, I noticed he had a weird limp and labored breathing. He's always been an indoor cat and I didn't hear him fall or anything. I did some research online and wasn't able to figure out any reason for it. Within a couple hours, he was getting better. He still had a slight limp and was kinda standoffish but by that evening the limp was gone and he was back to his normal self.
Fast forward a few days, I went to bed shortly after watching Bailey running around, playing, having a great time. I fall asleep, then am awoken at around 4am by the sound of him struggling to get up on my bed. He finally got up and lied down near my feet. I called his name and he kinda crawled/slid up to my side. Now I could hear that he was breathing very fast and heavily. I touched him, hoping to calm him down, and he cried out. He then pulled himself off the bed and in the darkness I could tell he wasn't using his back legs. I saw him crawl out of my room and then he went down two flights of stairs to the basement. I went down to check on him. I could hear him breathing before I even got halfway there. It sounded like he was hyperventilating. By this time, I was starting to freak out. I quickly got dressed and put him in his carrier to take him to the animal hospital. It was a short ride, but he was crying out the whole time.
I waited while the vet checked him out. She came out to tell me that she had given him pain meds to calm him down. Then she delivered the devastating news: he had thrown a blood clot which had lodged in his lower body and had cut off circulation to his back legs. His body temperature was very low and his hind legs were cold.
She said that it was likely caused by heart disease and that there weren't many options. The only procedure they could do was very invasive and had less than a 30% survival rate. There was no guarantee that he would regain use of his back legs and there was a very high probability of reoccurrence.
I couldn't put him through all that, just for my own selfish reasons. I called my ex-girlfriend, who was there when we rescued him and was there for the first 8 years of our time with him, but had just recently moved out.
She was there quickly and we spent some time talking to and petting Bailey, knowing the whole time what we beeded to do. It was, by far, the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I didn't think I'd want to be in the room for the final moments. She convinced me otherwise, saying that this cat and I were so close that, not only would I regret not being there, but that Bailey might find some comfort in having me there. So I held him and watched the vet put the fluids into his IV. Within a couple minutes, he was gone. I was a wreck. It felt like the whole ordeal had taken an eternity, but it had only been 2 hours since I had woken up.
I've had cats pass away before, but this one is different. I've been really struggling with it. I have two other cats, but this one was my guy, my shadow. I see him everywhere I look in the house - in all his normal, favorite spots. My house feels so empty now that his powerful, unique personality is gone. He was friends with everyone. But the other two cats don't particularly get along with each other, but that's a story for another day.
All this is compounded by the fact that my girlfriend, who had lived with me for the last 10 years, had recently moved out. Bailey had helped me cope with this breakup and now they're both gone. Now I'm here in a quiet and relatively empty house, with two cats that don't like each other, trying to go to sleep in a bed that my favorite pet ever basically had a stroke in, and with an all-too-clear memory of watching him struggle and suffer through his final, painful moments. This has easily been the hardest 4-5 day period of my life and I am at a loss. This has been absolutely devastating and it seems to only be getting harder every day. I'm just aimlessly wandering around my house trying to pick up all the pieces of my broken heart.
Anyway, thanks to anyone that is still reading after so many words. I'm really glad I found this forum, if for no other reason than it makes me realize that I'm not crazy for feeling this way. I hope that telling my story will help me cope with this devastating loss.
