She was old and sick. I don’t know how old, because she was a foster failure, and when we took her, she was “more than ten years old”. She had been in kitty hospice for more than a year, when the vet diagnosed her with “probably lymphoma”. We opted for “comfort care”, so he never tried to pin down the diagnosis, although at her most recent appointment he said it probably hadn’t been lymphoma, just based on how long she survived. We’ve been giving her daily painkillers and a steroid a couple times a week for more than a year. She wasn’t able to eat much in a sitting, so we also fed her all day long, a spoonful of wet food at a time. She had stopped grooming herself, and it was clearly painful for her when we tried to untangle her mats, and she had so many we would have had to shave her naked to remove them. So she looked pretty ragged. She had been a handsome cat when she was healthy. She had an enormous frame for a female cat, and weighed nothing. She was really all skin and bones for the past year or two.
Anyway, rest in peace, Rachel.
We will bury her in the back yard at lunch. The kids are trying to arrange to come
We buried her in my husband’s lunch break. Both children were able to attend. I dug the hole in advance, but i forgot how huge her frame was, and i had to expand it a little to accommodate her front paws, splayed forwards in rigor.
We put some clean leaves underneath, and over her head, and everyone threw in a handful of soil, which is a Jewish burial custom. Then i used the shovel to finish the job, and our daughter found her a nice grave stone. (It’s rocky here. Lots of suitable stones.)
Rest in peace, my most annoying tripping hazard. You did your best.
Your story brought tears to my eyes, because it reminded me of the passing of my old friend Jack. He was old and sick. One Saturday he was so sick we reluctantly decided we would have to take him in and have him put down on Monday. We had resisted that because he hated the vet’s office and we didn’t want him to leave this earth in a place he hated. As it turned out, we were spared that. That night he crawled up in my lap, like he did every night, and passed away, on his own terms, in a place he loved. We both held him until the end.
It’s heartbreaking to lose your friend, but take comfort in knowing that Rachel was loved, and in her own way knew it, and loved you in return.
My mother was visiting this week. When we were talking about pets, she remarked that – for several years after our (my) childhood dog died – my mother would ‘trip’ over the one spot where Tammy had habitually laid down.
I have no end of similar and subtle and irrelevant and stupid … and oh-so sweet … reminders of my Sam.
I’m sorry for your loss, but hope you’ll cherish all the silly little memories, too.
My sympathies for your loss. I’ve cried hard over the loss of cats. It’s particularly difficult when they’re in so much discomfort that they can’t take care of themselves, but you did right by Rachel.
I’m glad your family could come together to say goodbye this way.