Good-bye, Phoebe

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Today we lost or 14 year old cat, Phoebe. I went downstairs to get a book I needed for a citation, and found her laying on the concrete, barely responsive. I scooped her up, called my wife, and rushed her to the vet. She never left my arms the whole drive there. She couldn’t meow anymore, just mouthed a couple of silent meows. She reached up a couple of times, so slowly, and gently touched my face (I was holding her like a baby). But, she probably died in my arms. They tried to revive her at the vet, but they couldn’t get much air in her lungs, and couldn’t get compressions to work; there was a large mass in her chest cavity, probably cancer.

Two days ago she was begging for treats as always, we hadn’t seen her yesterday- normal, especially when fireworks are involved. Today… I cannot help feel guilty, how long had she lain on that cold, hard floor all alone? I was gonna go get her a new bed today, in her old-age she had decided to mostly live in the basement, and her old one was thin, and full of her hair.

I know she was 14. And she was the least loving cat I’ve ever had- hated being petted, and LORD! do not try and hold her. But she loved her hairbrush (purred like it was going out of style whenever I got it out), and loved her treats (especially the “Temptations” with the crunchy crust around a soft center!) and would come running whenever we fed the dogs, knowing her treats weren’t far behind, meowing loudly from her perch on the table until she got hers! I won’t miss the de-litter training herself… luckily she would use wee-wee pads, but still… (We took her to the vet several times, finally after all the tests it was explained that sometimes cats just do that in their dotage)

She wasn’t even my cat- I adopted her when I met my wife. Phoebe was 8. My wife had her since she was found, abandoned at 4 weeks, and turned into the shelter. She was my cat, though, my Bo-Bo (Beau-Beau), and it breaks my heart to think of her lying there, all alone.

Pets don’t live long enough… their only fault, really.

2

Oh I am so sorry. Sometimes it seems like the death of a beloved pet is worse than that of a human person, because they love us back unconditionally. And with a human we can at least speak with them to know better what to do for them.

I agree, their lives are too short.

I’ll give my cat Atilla and my dog Nathan extra scritches in Phoebe’s honor. I hope she is in the eternal catnip fields now, where the mice run slowly.

3

Don’t beat yourself up too much. Cats just don’t show pain, and it’s often difficult to know that something is wrong until you come upon them in an extreme state.

4

I know, I just don’t think any loved one should die alone- I don’t want to think of her being scared, and her people weren’t there to help. I take my responsibilities as a pet-parent very seriously.

5

I know that projecting human emotions and motivations is a perilous thing, especially when it comes to cats. That said, given her aversion to being held, it’s just barely possible that reaching up to touch your face was her way of saying, “It’s okay — you’re here now and I appreciate it.”

(And if she died in your arms, she certainly didn’t die alone.)

Pax.

6

I was about to answer this, thanks OttoDaFe! So sorry for your loss, Jimbabweosu.

7

Jimbabweosu, you sound like you were a great cat parent. Don’t beat yourself up too much over this. The fact that Phoebe reached up to touch your face feels like she was saying goodbye. I think one of my daughters said many years ago when her beloved dog died, “Death sucks.” From the mouth of babes…

8

I’m so sorry. Phoebe was lucky to have you.

9

I’m so sorry for your loss. You were fortunate to have each other. I, too, wish pets could live longer lives in good health, but then how much more wrenching would the death of a thirty-year old dog or cat be? Maybe we get all the love and companionship we can handle in 14 or 15 years.

Anyway, I will give extra hugs and ear skritchies to Bear, Niblet and Heidi before I go to bed, and tell them I love them.

10

I am sorry to hear about your loss. Cats, even those who seem to disdain human contact as you describe, have a way of working themselves into our hearts.

But they are ours, and we are theirs. I will keep you and Phoebe in my thoughts; and I will give all my cats extra skritches and Temptations treats, in honor of her.

11

I’ve read that often animals when they’re dying like to hideaway from company, so don’t blame yourself on that score.

I won’t have a pet because to us they live to short a life, but she had, for a cat, a very long life.

Don’t beat yourself up, she had a good life.

Sending good thoughts your way.

12

I’m so very sorry.

13

Sorry to hear that. :frowning:

14

My sympathies. I had to take my beautiful Siamese Maestro, on that final ride to the vet a few months ago. Just like people our precious pets live on in our memories.

15

I’m so sorry; may she rest in peace.

16

Thank you, everyone, for your kind words, they are appreciated.

Yesterday we got an envelope from the Vet- we thought it was the bill (they always want payment immediately, but with Phoebe’s last visit they said they would bill us).

Instead, it was a nice sympathy card and four 4X6 cards with “Phoebe” written on each with her little paw-prints impressed in ink, one on each card. They took her paw-prints for us. We’re gonna frame them.

I am not ashamed to say I cried… heck, I’m tearing up now! But what a kindhearted gesture, no?

17

I hate seeing these threads. The loss of a beloved pet is a hard thing. It seems that anything I say would sound trite; but I do feel for you and others who have lost a pet.

The SO named her cat Harvey, because he would be her constant companion. When she moved in, she was only partially joking when she said Harvey was my cat. She’d rescued him from a shelter, took care of him for years, cared for him through his seizures, was protective of him and kept her eye on him, fed him, cleaned his litter box, and paid the vet bills she could ill-afford. And he spent most of his time lounging on or near me. He died suddenly last Autumn at the age of eight.

We had a single cremation for Harvey. I went to the vet a week later to retrieve his ashes, which were in a cardboard box, while the SO was at work. I expected a plastic bag full of ashes, and I had already been searching for a burial box or urn. When the SO opened the box, we found that they were in a very nice, grey ceramic, stone-finished urn. Rather than bury it in the cold yard, Harvey now sits on the mantel with a white ceramic cat that the SO had bought before she moved here looking over him. We thought it was very nice that the cremation service provided an attractive urn. It was unexpected, and very appreciated. Sheesh, my allergies are acting up…

As a postscript, the SO was at work when Harvey died. She asked that I not call her with bad news, so all she knew while she was at work was that Harvey was at the vet and critically ill. She didn’t cry in front of the patients, but they could tell she had been. She rarely works on Mondays, but she did yesterday. She saw a patient that she hadn’t seen since November. The patient asked her how the cat was. The SO asked, ‘My new cat, or my old cat?’ The patient said, ‘I guess that answers my question.’ It was nice that the patient remembered her and Harvey. They chatted a bit yesterday. The SO told her about our little nutcake, and the patient thought it was good that we’d gotten a new cat.

I hope all of that will let you see that when I say ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ or ‘My deepest condolences to you’, I really mean it. Those phrases convey the feelings of my own experience.

Good vets can be hard to find. S/he was thoughtful to send you the paw prints. When you frame them, Phoebe will be with you always.

18

That’s really sweet!

She’s up in Pet Heaven with (among others) my cat Jenny (1991-2009), my sister’s dog Toby (ca. 1998-2013), and all the other beloved pets we’ve had other the years.

19

I’m so sorry for your loss, but you can take some comfort knowing that she didn’t die alone. I agree with other posters, she reached up to touch you, she was saying goodbye and thank you.

When my last cat passed away, I had to collect the ashes from the vet but they came in a lovely pine casket with her name on it and the date I’d given them as her birth date. A few days later, they sent me a packet of forget-me-not seeds so I planted them in the garden and now there is a carpet of pretty flowers to remind me of her.