I knew the time was coming, but I didn't think it would arrive so quickly.
Today was my cat Benny's last day. The sarcoma increased four times in size over the past two weeks and was invading both the thoracic and abdominal cavities. His lymphatic system was also beginning to malfunction. I could have fought for a few days more with him, but I put him first. He didn't deserve to be in pain, so I let him go today, before he crossed the line from being uncomfortable to suffering. They were amazed how quickly the sarcoma was growing.
Until one day he got sick. Some sort of upper respiratory infection that would wax and wane. In time we learned that he was Feline Leukemia positive. He spiked terribly high fevers for days that had me placing ice around him. Eventually he got better and after a few months, we tested him again and miraculously he was Felv-! Another test was done and proved that he actually fought off the virus. The vets all said that they had heard of it happening but never saw it. He was their little miracle cat. But not long after, it was apparent that the high fevers caused some neurological damage. I remember posting a picture here of when he literally shredded my wrist just prior to a job interview. Eventually he was placed on phenobarbital for the aggression but his other symptoms persisted and there was simply nothing to be done about phantom pains. So about two weeks ago we found a protrusion below the rib cage. It was really the beginning of the end.
Eight and a half years is too soon. I will always feel like I didn't do enough for him. That I didn't protect him, even though I know that there are some things you just can't protect against. He is now buried overlooking the stream where he used to hunt bullfrogs (go figure!). For the first time since he was a little over a year old, he is free of his ailments. For that, today is a good day.
For as many times as I threatened to end his life with my own hands during his bad years, I will miss him terribly. Goodnight my little 'Beenie'; time to guard Chessie again.
6 comments:
Your guilt is misplaced. You gave the little fella life and love for eight years, and allowed for some bad behaviour and bullfrog hunting (???!). You made the difficult but very right decision to let him go when it all got too much for him. You grieve for him, and you will for a long time to come, people underestimate how much of an emotional place animals can take in our lives.
When we lost the Bob Dog, I felt overwhelming guilt for all the times I'd yelled at her for tripping me up when she followed me like a stinky shadow. She'd been abandoned too, and her attachment to me was unbelievable. I still feel guilty, two years on, but then I look at the pics of her snuggled up next to me on the settee or stomping about the beach and I realise I did something good.
So did you. Remember that.
With much love, GD xx
aw, i'm so sorry ... what a lovely kitty he was and he had the best of mummys ...
GD - Thank you. I suppose I just feel guilt over not being able to arrive at a better outcome. I know it isn't realistic to think that I can change the laws of health, history and physics, so to speak, but I still feel like I should have done something more. I remember when Bob's health seemed to be declining, perhaps coming with age, and although there are stresses that came along with it, your attachment was apparent. They do become a very large part of us, which I think is reciprocal. I have my little foundling (side of the road, 4 weeks old) that is almost 2 years old and for as much as we hate each other (we're both equally stubborn), this cat has bonded to me. And I worry about him b/c he's just not that swift sometimes, lol. Ups and down, like you mentioned, but that bond is strong. Benny is finally free of illness, and the associated issues, and for that, I am happy to have been able to give him that.
I will have to try that link when I get back... off to see the doc now. I'll let you know if it works, thanks!
Carrot - Thanks. When he was in the midst of the neurological breakdown, I used to threaten to kill him with my own hands. Yep. but keep in mind that he had latched on to me and I was bleeding profusely at the time. ;) He and I traveled a long, rocky road together but for him, the road isn't rocky now. =)
I had to smile when you said about the Foundling 'as much as we hate each other...'. Bob hated my husband with a passion, much preferring me for herself. She'd give him a look that was basically 'Oh man!'. And he found her and brought her home, not me!
It's funny, the things you remember. She had a periscope nose that would hover up over the edge of her bed whenever we had chocolate. Even when fast asleep she could smell it out.
You gave him good years, love, admiration. And he is beautiful.
I'm so sorry you didn't get to have many many more years, but in my greedy life I find no matter how many years you get...you long for more.
And for him, yes, the road is smooth and lovely and dotted with willing, tasty prey that is renewed and renewed.
GD - I love the idea of a periscope nose! Thoughts like that will come back when you least expect it. Bittersweet, of course, but you'd never trade them. =) (Btw, the link won't work in 'my area'. Apparently 'my area' has cooties. Pfft.)
Jarvenpa - You are so right and I completely agree. There is never a good point to let go; never enough time to be had. I walked by the stream/pond bank where I buried him earlier today and although I was sad, I didn't cry. I knw that he was done doing whatever he came here to do. Now he is off not having a care... which is how it should be.
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