I haven't been on MNet for ages, but I am turning here to talk and to try and help to deal with the hurt of losing my beloved 16 year old boy cat.
He had suffered with arthritis for the last year, but over the summer the muscle loss was becoming more and more evident. He really was a knock-kneed old gent. In the past few months, I had noticed an unusual smell from his mouth. The vet checked him out and could find nothing. We continued for a while on two meds to try and keep him comfortable - despite his arthritis and decreasing ability to get up onto our laps, or through the cat flap - he was eating well and appeared surprisingly healthy.
A couple of weeks ago, I became concerned about him. He had lost the sparkle in his eyes, and had retreated to my daughter's bedroom where he spent most of his time asleep. He came down once a day to eat, go outside and then he was straight back in and onto his warm spot. I'm ashamed to say I put off going back to the vet because I had that sinking feeling of knowing what was coming next.
Last week he started sneezing. Not just once or twice but almost continuously. The force of the sneeze made him look like the arthritis was really painful. I took him back last Friday to the vets, and she told me that he really was on his last legs now and we should prepare for the worst eventuality. She gave him a cortisone injection to make him more comfortable, and if there was any kind of polyp or growth in his upper airways she hoped it would relieve the symptoms.
He didn't pick up much over the weekend, but the cough / sneeze thing stopped. He has rallied round so many times, and in my heart I really wanted to see him looking a bit better again. We had booked euthanasia at home for this Friday, anticipating the worst but hoping for the best (which the vet was happy with and would cancel the appt if necessary).
I kept looking at him yesterday thinking that his breathing looked fast and laboured. He was in a bit of a daze, wandering, looking like he couldn't settle. I rang the vet and she booked him in for yesterday evening. I wanted reassuring that he wasn't in pain, or that I was imagining the breathing being odd to subconsciously justify euthanasia.
The vet took one look at my beautiful boy and I knew from her face that we were going to lose him there and then. She thinks he probably had a mediastinal tumour which was making breathing difficult. She was so kind, I knew I couldn't let him suffer. He was put to sleep, and very peacefully went off with his head in my hands, and being told how much we loved him and to sleep tight.
I am utterly devastated. I never expected the sense of loss, the grief and pain to be so bad. I know I did the right thing, I would never have let him suffer. My boy was a kind gentleman, who had been my friend for a long time. He was always there when I was sad - if I cried he would pop up out of nowhere and wrap himself around my shoulders. I'd tell him about what was wrong then have a chuckle about making his fur all wet. I spent many years trying for a baby with no luck and he was my surrogate child! He stopped me from being lonely while my husband was working long hours, and became a playmate for the children which eventually blessed our lives.
Any other time feeling this sad, he would've been here. I just want to hold him, to bury my face in the softest fur behind his ears and sob. I can't believe I am never going to see my boy again.
RIP George. You will forever be remembered and loved.