After taking my girl to the vet over a suspected UTI or hair blockage, within three hours of being in the office, we found out she had intestinal lymphoma. The tumour was very large, almost 4 inches across. And yet, we didn’t recognise any signs until it was too late.
Four days before we took her to the vet, she had become increasingly lethargic and lost interest in her toys. She was spending a lot of time in the window, sleeping. Once the most talkative cat (she even talked in her sleep, and it was adorable), she was rarely speaking to us. Sometimes she would be quiet for a few days while dealing with a hairball. This usually lasted a maximum of three days. I knew something was wrong this time.
After receiving the devastating news, I left with prednisolone in hand, expecting her to at least live for the next few weeks. The vet warned me that we may have to say goodbye over the weekend. We gave her two doses. But overnight, it was just so bad. Her breathing was heavy and her tail was puffed up and flicking. She wanted to be alone.
She was always so present, like a shadow following us around the house, talking to us constantly and demanding our full attention and every ounce of love we had. She had *never* wanted to be alone. She slept on my chest and I would wake up to her pawing at my face. She wasn’t there now. I knew she was trying to be there, but that she did not have the strength.
I looked in her eyes and I knew it was time. I could see so much pain in them, and I saw how weak her body had become in such a short time. I couldn’t bring myself to believe what was happening, I thought that the two different vets that saw her could be wrong, and that there might still be hope. We took her in to say goodbye the next day. I was so devastated that the receptionist and vet cried with us as we said goodbye. Making that decision is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and my heart feels so broken.
She was a foster cat that I adopted after several months. When we first took her home, she was so ill. Undiagnosed severe skin allergies (an immune response to rodent ulcer), and a tooth infection which led her to have most of her teeth extracted. After 4 courses of antibiotics, steroids, and various other medications (as well as weekly trips to the vet), we had finally found a medication which worked for her allergies, it was like a miracle. She seemed so healthy and happy. She gained weight and her coat was beautiful. I thought I had healed her, and she was so young that the idea of cancer is not something that crossed my mind. I feel now that I failed her. I was so attentive to her health, but I had somehow missed this underlying cancer.
I miss her so much. She helped me through a dark period of my life, and I think I saved her too. I am so lucky to have had her in my life. It has been so hard though, especially given how quickly this all happened. She was always present, and now she is just gone. I wish I had taken her to the vet earlier, as maybe if we tried to give her the medication a week earlier, she might still be with us now—even if only for a short while. I have so much guilt. I wish I had noticed that something was wrong before it was too late. She hid it so well though. But still, I feel such pain and emptiness. I know many of you are feeling this too. I hope that I can find strength in these next few weeks. I just miss her so much. It is like a piece of me is missing, and I what happened to her is so unfair. She was the kindest and most caring animal I had ever met, and the relationship I shared with her felt so strong.
Thank you for reading this, and I am so sorry if you are also going through this pain. I just needed to write this.
X
Four days before we took her to the vet, she had become increasingly lethargic and lost interest in her toys. She was spending a lot of time in the window, sleeping. Once the most talkative cat (she even talked in her sleep, and it was adorable), she was rarely speaking to us. Sometimes she would be quiet for a few days while dealing with a hairball. This usually lasted a maximum of three days. I knew something was wrong this time.
After receiving the devastating news, I left with prednisolone in hand, expecting her to at least live for the next few weeks. The vet warned me that we may have to say goodbye over the weekend. We gave her two doses. But overnight, it was just so bad. Her breathing was heavy and her tail was puffed up and flicking. She wanted to be alone.
She was always so present, like a shadow following us around the house, talking to us constantly and demanding our full attention and every ounce of love we had. She had *never* wanted to be alone. She slept on my chest and I would wake up to her pawing at my face. She wasn’t there now. I knew she was trying to be there, but that she did not have the strength.
I looked in her eyes and I knew it was time. I could see so much pain in them, and I saw how weak her body had become in such a short time. I couldn’t bring myself to believe what was happening, I thought that the two different vets that saw her could be wrong, and that there might still be hope. We took her in to say goodbye the next day. I was so devastated that the receptionist and vet cried with us as we said goodbye. Making that decision is the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and my heart feels so broken.
She was a foster cat that I adopted after several months. When we first took her home, she was so ill. Undiagnosed severe skin allergies (an immune response to rodent ulcer), and a tooth infection which led her to have most of her teeth extracted. After 4 courses of antibiotics, steroids, and various other medications (as well as weekly trips to the vet), we had finally found a medication which worked for her allergies, it was like a miracle. She seemed so healthy and happy. She gained weight and her coat was beautiful. I thought I had healed her, and she was so young that the idea of cancer is not something that crossed my mind. I feel now that I failed her. I was so attentive to her health, but I had somehow missed this underlying cancer.
I miss her so much. She helped me through a dark period of my life, and I think I saved her too. I am so lucky to have had her in my life. It has been so hard though, especially given how quickly this all happened. She was always present, and now she is just gone. I wish I had taken her to the vet earlier, as maybe if we tried to give her the medication a week earlier, she might still be with us now—even if only for a short while. I have so much guilt. I wish I had noticed that something was wrong before it was too late. She hid it so well though. But still, I feel such pain and emptiness. I know many of you are feeling this too. I hope that I can find strength in these next few weeks. I just miss her so much. It is like a piece of me is missing, and I what happened to her is so unfair. She was the kindest and most caring animal I had ever met, and the relationship I shared with her felt so strong.
Thank you for reading this, and I am so sorry if you are also going through this pain. I just needed to write this.
X
Chin up. It's rough, but you'll be OK, and you're welcome to come here anytime you want to talk 
I did and will always love her.
.............there's something in my eye.
