 | This story doesn't have a happy ending... |
First off, thank you to Marc, Jason and Rob for your kind words. I wanted to comment on my previous blog, but I figured I'd do it here.
I successfully got my cat, Mona, to keep down sixteen feedings. That was more than she had taken prior. I thought she was due to bounce back. But there was always a lingering doubt. She exhibited signs of another illness that perhaps sparked her loss of appetite, and led to her hepatic lipidosis.
Saturday, feedings went well until about 3 PM. I fed her, she kept it down for a while, but then both vomited and went into convulsions. I fed her four hours later, and she kept that down. I figured, though, that her earlier symptoms were a sign she wasn't going to make it, and that come Monday I would have to take her to the vet for her final ride.
Her last feeding of Saturday went just like the 3 PM feeding, only worse. From there, she spiraled downward. She crept up to me for comfort, and I stroked her and hushed her until she relaxed. She eventually slept. I told my wife that she was dying, and she was in apparent denial. I don't blame her, because she adored Mona. She thought Mona just had a stomachache, because she had shown signs of improvement up to this point.
The next day, my wife got Mona up out of bed, held her in the living room and fed her. My kids spent time with her, giving her love and attention. I got up out of bed just in time to tousle the hair on her head and tell her I love her. Some time later, my wife went to get her up for another feeding, but she had passed in her sleep. I heard her calling Mona's name repeatedly, and though I knew she was gone, I ran urgently down the stairs.
My wife and I held each other for a few minutes, steadying each other. My mother-in-law took the kids, and Lindsey and I wrapped Mona up and took her to our garden. She used to perch on the living room window and look out, basking in the sun. We buried her beneath that window, since that was her spot.
I've lost animals before. My dog at age 19 slipped a disc in his back, and my parents opted to put him down. My previous cat perished due to complications with diabetes. However, I don't think I've ever been more crushed to lose a pet as I am now. I know this is a depressing read, but I have to write it because this helps me to move on. I love that cat, and always will. Nothing will change that, even if she isn't with us any longer.
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Masters - November 20, 2018 (08:45 PM) Jesus, this was sad to read. I'm sorry to hear it, although it seems she was having a terrible go of it and it's probably best that the suffering is over. The good news is that even though she won't be around, you'll always feel like she's part of the family and will talk about her as such. Quincy died, I don't know, some 15-20 years ago? I still think of him as if he's still here, and a part of the family. And he is. |
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hastypixels - November 22, 2018 (06:55 PM) They never leave us, and we'll be reunited on the other side. You showed her love, gave her a home and family. How would she not have gratitude for that? It's hard to let go of their companionship in this life, but when I lost Bailey - my Redbone Coonhound - to a blood clot, I know he's not suffering any longer, and I treasure the lessons he taught me. In the mean time, let their memories be a blessing. It's a phrase I heard lately - when Stan Lee passed away - that I rather like. |
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JoeTheDestroyer - November 27, 2018 (12:31 PM) Thank you, guys. |
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