A few of you were very responsive to my post about Mouse being sick... some of your advice I'm convinced gave me some extra time with him. We said goodbye on 7/18/22. My triaditis post is here: https://thecatsite.com/threads/triaditis-leading-to-urinary-food-aversion.445681/post-5551794
I didn't know what to expect when it comes to having him put to sleep, because I've never been through that before. I'd had Mousey since I was 25, so for all intents and purposes - my entire adult life post-college was experienced with him by my side. No kiddos, busy career, no direct or extended family, and not a huge social circle. So Mouse was really my whole world outside of work and I 'became who I am today' with him as the most stable and consistent 'thread in the sweater' so-to-speak. Everything else would change - but Mouse didn't.
The first week I was in shock and actually didn't cry... the lint trap in the dryer still gathered cat hair from whatever had previously accumulated. I'd look down on my bathroom counter and see a stray cat hair - I found a whisker on the floor by the sofa. I saved it, as weird as that is - he had the most beautiful, long whiskers. Coming home to an empty house after work was hard. Waking up to a quiet house was harder. Sitting on the couch with an empty lap was foreign. Every single activity in my life he inserted himself into - so just going about daily life without him was a bunch of lonely 'firsts'.
The second week was horrible and had some of those 'lay on the floor and cry like a crazy person' episodes... I had ordered a 74-photo "coffee table tribute book", a 4x6 print of every photo I'd ever taken of him (about a thousand pictures), and his ashes came back. My beautiful 12 pound boy - reduced to a tiny wooden box. The end of week two I organized the thousand photos in approximate chronological order and put them into two huge photo albums. I also cleaned his litterboxes and put them away - and disassembled the cat tree so I wouldn't have to look at it every day. All of his toys and shampoos and brushes and vitamins went in a little box, but photos remain up. I donated all his food and cat litter. There was some weird closure in doing this. He liked to sleep one of two places every night: either in my arms like a little spoon, or on a pillow next to my head. So his ashes box is sitting on his pillow on my bed. This might be morbid, but it's been there every night for three weeks now. For a while I held the box in my sleep, which might be even more weird.
The third week was better in that, I don't think I cried, but it was somber. The lint trap was only lint. I realized that there's no longer a need to check the dryer halfway through a load to scrape it out twice. No more stray cat hairs, and the Dyson isn't picking up anymore fur... Sigh.
Week four I thought I was finally moving past the emotional rollercoaster, but now I'm on week five and it feels like week two all over again. I just miss him so, so deeply. I wish the grief and sadness would go away and stay gone. I'm considering writing a list of all the unique things he did that I loved, so I never ever forget. I still remember all his little noises and 'tones of voice' - there may come a day when I can't hear those in my head anymore.
All that to say, I have a coworker who has a fresh litter of kittens that will be ready to leave their mama by the end of September, and I'm wondering if anyone has had success with 'moving on' by getting a new kitty? Was it hard to not put pressure on the new kitty to 'act like your first and favorite' kitty? How soon is too soon to consider this? If I don't bottle feed the kitten, does that make for a weaker relationship? Since Mouse has been my only pet, and he was a bit of an outlier as far as cats go (fetched/retrieved, did tricks, never scratched my belongings, super affectionate, never marked outside his box, etc - he was kind of 'perfect') he's my only frame of reference.
I didn't know what to expect when it comes to having him put to sleep, because I've never been through that before. I'd had Mousey since I was 25, so for all intents and purposes - my entire adult life post-college was experienced with him by my side. No kiddos, busy career, no direct or extended family, and not a huge social circle. So Mouse was really my whole world outside of work and I 'became who I am today' with him as the most stable and consistent 'thread in the sweater' so-to-speak. Everything else would change - but Mouse didn't.
The first week I was in shock and actually didn't cry... the lint trap in the dryer still gathered cat hair from whatever had previously accumulated. I'd look down on my bathroom counter and see a stray cat hair - I found a whisker on the floor by the sofa. I saved it, as weird as that is - he had the most beautiful, long whiskers. Coming home to an empty house after work was hard. Waking up to a quiet house was harder. Sitting on the couch with an empty lap was foreign. Every single activity in my life he inserted himself into - so just going about daily life without him was a bunch of lonely 'firsts'.
The second week was horrible and had some of those 'lay on the floor and cry like a crazy person' episodes... I had ordered a 74-photo "coffee table tribute book", a 4x6 print of every photo I'd ever taken of him (about a thousand pictures), and his ashes came back. My beautiful 12 pound boy - reduced to a tiny wooden box. The end of week two I organized the thousand photos in approximate chronological order and put them into two huge photo albums. I also cleaned his litterboxes and put them away - and disassembled the cat tree so I wouldn't have to look at it every day. All of his toys and shampoos and brushes and vitamins went in a little box, but photos remain up. I donated all his food and cat litter. There was some weird closure in doing this. He liked to sleep one of two places every night: either in my arms like a little spoon, or on a pillow next to my head. So his ashes box is sitting on his pillow on my bed. This might be morbid, but it's been there every night for three weeks now. For a while I held the box in my sleep, which might be even more weird.
The third week was better in that, I don't think I cried, but it was somber. The lint trap was only lint. I realized that there's no longer a need to check the dryer halfway through a load to scrape it out twice. No more stray cat hairs, and the Dyson isn't picking up anymore fur... Sigh.
Week four I thought I was finally moving past the emotional rollercoaster, but now I'm on week five and it feels like week two all over again. I just miss him so, so deeply. I wish the grief and sadness would go away and stay gone. I'm considering writing a list of all the unique things he did that I loved, so I never ever forget. I still remember all his little noises and 'tones of voice' - there may come a day when I can't hear those in my head anymore.
All that to say, I have a coworker who has a fresh litter of kittens that will be ready to leave their mama by the end of September, and I'm wondering if anyone has had success with 'moving on' by getting a new kitty? Was it hard to not put pressure on the new kitty to 'act like your first and favorite' kitty? How soon is too soon to consider this? If I don't bottle feed the kitten, does that make for a weaker relationship? Since Mouse has been my only pet, and he was a bit of an outlier as far as cats go (fetched/retrieved, did tricks, never scratched my belongings, super affectionate, never marked outside his box, etc - he was kind of 'perfect') he's my only frame of reference.