Hello BITOG crew.
I have seen other posts like this and so am doing one. There is healing in the telling, even if anonymous. I never thought I would feel this way about a pet.
Our cat Jack died yesterday. He was 15+ years old. My wife had him since he was born and brought him into our marriage.
The most correct diagnosis was cancer even though we didn't have a full biopsy done. He had been slowly losing weight over the past two years but then this last month he lost a lot of weight and stopped eating. Regular vet visits and tests had no conclusive evidence of anything. So the vet concluded that the weight loss was cancer which wasn't detectable without a harsh biopsy. Well, Jack was old enough and loved enough not to have to go through that. He was diminishing fast and was likely in more and more pain.
A few days ago, knowing we were approaching the end, we started giving him all the freedom he could muster, all the food he could eat if he wanted, and all the lap time he wanted no matter what. He spent most of his time sleeping.
All the kids (now mostly adults) came to visit. They all knew him since he was young and they were kids.
We had him euthanized in-home yesterday. It was peaceful, yet heart-wrenching. That morning we put his favorite heater out and turned it on for him. He lulled and snoozed the whole morning by that heater, soaking in the warmth. That is the attached picture. That is where he was when the vet arrived.
He is buried under to the arbor vitae tree in the yard that he loved to snooze under on clear days. This became his favorite spot and his final rest. I used to have to drag him into the house from that spot because he would not come when called, and he usually came when called. All of his toys are with him, too.
And here is the personal stuff: In the beginning and often throughout his life in my home, I was annoyed with him and basically wanted him to be gone. I looked forward to the day he was gone. I glorified the day I would be free from pets. Today, the day after he died, I am looking back and wishing he were still here. I am floored by how empty it feels in the house. He added that much substance to our lives. He was so much more loving and personable than I gave him credit for and basically took for granted. Last year I worked from home all year and he had access to me full time and my heart softened. A love/hate relationship eroded into just a love relationship. He visited me at "work" every day and sat with me for hours. He would sit in my lap while I coded or gamed or watched TV. He would greet us at the door when we came home. I could tell he really liked having me around. And I think he knew that I felt the same about him.
He was my pal.
Thanks for letting me tell this. My wife has a similar story.
cvlw
I have seen other posts like this and so am doing one. There is healing in the telling, even if anonymous. I never thought I would feel this way about a pet.
Our cat Jack died yesterday. He was 15+ years old. My wife had him since he was born and brought him into our marriage.
The most correct diagnosis was cancer even though we didn't have a full biopsy done. He had been slowly losing weight over the past two years but then this last month he lost a lot of weight and stopped eating. Regular vet visits and tests had no conclusive evidence of anything. So the vet concluded that the weight loss was cancer which wasn't detectable without a harsh biopsy. Well, Jack was old enough and loved enough not to have to go through that. He was diminishing fast and was likely in more and more pain.
A few days ago, knowing we were approaching the end, we started giving him all the freedom he could muster, all the food he could eat if he wanted, and all the lap time he wanted no matter what. He spent most of his time sleeping.
All the kids (now mostly adults) came to visit. They all knew him since he was young and they were kids.
We had him euthanized in-home yesterday. It was peaceful, yet heart-wrenching. That morning we put his favorite heater out and turned it on for him. He lulled and snoozed the whole morning by that heater, soaking in the warmth. That is the attached picture. That is where he was when the vet arrived.
He is buried under to the arbor vitae tree in the yard that he loved to snooze under on clear days. This became his favorite spot and his final rest. I used to have to drag him into the house from that spot because he would not come when called, and he usually came when called. All of his toys are with him, too.
And here is the personal stuff: In the beginning and often throughout his life in my home, I was annoyed with him and basically wanted him to be gone. I looked forward to the day he was gone. I glorified the day I would be free from pets. Today, the day after he died, I am looking back and wishing he were still here. I am floored by how empty it feels in the house. He added that much substance to our lives. He was so much more loving and personable than I gave him credit for and basically took for granted. Last year I worked from home all year and he had access to me full time and my heart softened. A love/hate relationship eroded into just a love relationship. He visited me at "work" every day and sat with me for hours. He would sit in my lap while I coded or gamed or watched TV. He would greet us at the door when we came home. I could tell he really liked having me around. And I think he knew that I felt the same about him.
He was my pal.
Thanks for letting me tell this. My wife has a similar story.
cvlw