When I first saw her, she was cowering in the corner of my sister’s bedroom. She wouldn’t let anyone touch her. She would hide anywhere she could fit. We found her hiding in the basement ceiling one day! Don’t ask me how she got there. It’s hard to believe this frightened kitty would become the love of my life. As time went on she began to explore the house more. She still didn’t like being around people, but she started to get used to us. She loved laying on my bed when I was at school. When I would come home, I’d be so tired I would fall asleep beside her. Somehow she became more trusting of me that way. She would sleep beside me. When we woke up, she would lay on top of me while I watched tv. I became her protector. She didn’t like strangers, so whenever people were visiting our home, I would stay with her in my room. Not only did I become fond of her, but she became fond of me as well. She didn’t show affection easily. But when she saw me, her eyes lit up and she would purr so loudly, you could hear her from across the room. She had 8 kittens before we had her fixed. But after she was fixed, something happened. She gradually gained weight. She became quite overweight in her final years. We fed her no more than our other cats, but she remained overweight. She was still acting like her normal self. But she became more lazy, and in need of my help. I would help her off and on to the couch. I’d carry her to the litter box. I even held a water bowl to her mouth ‘til my arm hurt. I did everything to make her life comfortable. And she appreciated it. Her favorite place was beside me on the couch. She would knead me as she lay there. She would look at me with nothing but love in her eyes. I’m sure all you cat lovers know the look of a totally happy cat. She was very happy.
We noticed, one day, that she was breathing rapidly. And she lost her appetite. We took her to the vet. They thought she had heart failure because they found liquid in her lungs. But they also believed she could’ve regurgitated liquid into her lungs due to her weight. They didn’t know for sure. They prescribed Lasix. She stayed on that for a few years. She was doing well and was still very happy. Then, last year, came some of the worst days of my life. She started breathing rapidly again. She lost her appetite. She refused to take her medicine. We took her to the vet multiple times. They didn’t know what was wrong. She was under enormous stress from all the trips to and from the vet. Remember she was a very frightened kitty and she hated leaving the house.
March 24th, 2019. She was still very sick. She wouldn’t eat. She was laying on the couch but couldn’t sleep. She struggled to breathe and kept changing positions. I sat with her and begged God not to take her from me. I stayed with her all night. Finally, in the morning, we decided we had to take her back to the vet. It was risky because every time we took her it caused her so much stress. She could barely breathe at this point. We got there. They took her to the back. Someone ran out to us and said she had collapsed and was now unconscious. They wanted to perform CPR. We obviously agreed to it. We waited. They came back and said she had a heartbeat, but things still didn’t look good. We waited again. The doctor came back, and shook her head. Mama had passed. I cried the rest of the day. It all happened so quickly. And the memory of her frightened face is burned into my mind. They believe she ultimately died of something called pickwickian syndrome. Her lungs couldn’t handle her weight and eventually she just couldn’t breathe enough to keep her going. You can’t imagine my guilt. I should’ve tried harder to help her lose weight. But it’s extremely difficult to get a cat to exercise when they just don’t want to.
Its been a year and 2 months since she passed away. And the pain is still unbearable. All the things I should’ve done weigh heavily on me. She relied on me to keep her safe and I feel like I failed her. I have always suffered from anxiety and depression. My cats are one of the few things that make me happy. She made me so happy. Even just the way she looked at me could make me feel better. No other cat looks at me the way she did. I feel like I’ve lost a piece of myself that I’ll never get back. She needed me as much as I needed her. I truly wonder if the pain ever ends.
We never knew her exact age. But she was probably between 14 - 16 years old. Rest In Peace, my beautiful girl.
We noticed, one day, that she was breathing rapidly. And she lost her appetite. We took her to the vet. They thought she had heart failure because they found liquid in her lungs. But they also believed she could’ve regurgitated liquid into her lungs due to her weight. They didn’t know for sure. They prescribed Lasix. She stayed on that for a few years. She was doing well and was still very happy. Then, last year, came some of the worst days of my life. She started breathing rapidly again. She lost her appetite. She refused to take her medicine. We took her to the vet multiple times. They didn’t know what was wrong. She was under enormous stress from all the trips to and from the vet. Remember she was a very frightened kitty and she hated leaving the house.
March 24th, 2019. She was still very sick. She wouldn’t eat. She was laying on the couch but couldn’t sleep. She struggled to breathe and kept changing positions. I sat with her and begged God not to take her from me. I stayed with her all night. Finally, in the morning, we decided we had to take her back to the vet. It was risky because every time we took her it caused her so much stress. She could barely breathe at this point. We got there. They took her to the back. Someone ran out to us and said she had collapsed and was now unconscious. They wanted to perform CPR. We obviously agreed to it. We waited. They came back and said she had a heartbeat, but things still didn’t look good. We waited again. The doctor came back, and shook her head. Mama had passed. I cried the rest of the day. It all happened so quickly. And the memory of her frightened face is burned into my mind. They believe she ultimately died of something called pickwickian syndrome. Her lungs couldn’t handle her weight and eventually she just couldn’t breathe enough to keep her going. You can’t imagine my guilt. I should’ve tried harder to help her lose weight. But it’s extremely difficult to get a cat to exercise when they just don’t want to.
Its been a year and 2 months since she passed away. And the pain is still unbearable. All the things I should’ve done weigh heavily on me. She relied on me to keep her safe and I feel like I failed her. I have always suffered from anxiety and depression. My cats are one of the few things that make me happy. She made me so happy. Even just the way she looked at me could make me feel better. No other cat looks at me the way she did. I feel like I’ve lost a piece of myself that I’ll never get back. She needed me as much as I needed her. I truly wonder if the pain ever ends.
We never knew her exact age. But she was probably between 14 - 16 years old. Rest In Peace, my beautiful girl.
. It's only natural to feel guilty. I don't know of anyone here who hasn't felt that guilt, no matter the circumstances. Could I have done this, should I have done that? What's important is that you loved her and she loved you, and from what you described you both knew that about each other. She had a wonderful, long life because of you...never forget that.
