I know it can be so hard to lose a pet. I had to put my beloved cat Merlin down earlier this year and I still miss him. We had a good 15 years together and I am grateful for that.
Tig is in precisely the right hands.
Hoping the night is gentle to you both.
I agree with that too.
Do what you can with what the familiar vet. can help you do for him at home. And unless your vet. strongly says otherwise offer him anything to eat that he seems to want.
And hold on to the thought of every happy moment of that 17 years.
I think what you’re doing for Tigger is exactly the right thing to do, Spoons. Let him be at home, with you.
Spoilering something about euthanasia, in case you aren’t feeling up to reading it:
Two years ago, we faced a similar situation with our old cat, Kola. We knew that the end was near, but he hated riding in the car, and hated going to the vet, and we were dreading the thought of having to put him through that one last time if we had to put him to sleep.
My wife found a vet service which came to the house, and took care of it in our living room, with Kola in my wife’s arms. It was as peaceful and non-stressful for him as it possibly could have been, and the vet was tremendously caring. My understanding is that there are several services which do this now, and while they aren’t inexpensive, it was worth it to us.
Wise words. I will echo them. Tigger is lucky to have you.
Spoons, many of us have been through this before, and know that it’s never easy. You know you’re doing the right thing for Tig, and that’s all that can be expected. Just remember all the joy you have given each other.
{{{Spoons and Tig}}}
Friends, I heard from the vet today, with the results of the blood and urine tests. Basically, Tig’s problems boil down to this:
– Renal/kidney failure
– Elevated white blood cell count
– Thyroid hormone production inhibited
Numbers off the charts in all cases.
The vet stated that we could put Tig into the local emergency pet hospital, hook him up to a bunch of IVs and whatnot, and so on and so on. He might live a little longer. He had no idea how much it would cost. Nor could he guess how much longer Tigger would live, with the treatment.
I’m conflicted. On the one hand, I don’t want to lose my little buddy; but on the other hand, I don’t want to see him suffer. And he seems to be suffering; he’s wobbly when he tries to get to the water bowl. He’s not eating. He couldn’t get to the litter box earlier, and took a leak on the kitchen floor. It’s tiled, so it was easy to clean up. But still.
I seem to recall a post on this topic that said that “once an animal’s quality of life suffers, it’s time to do the kind thing.” It seems to me that Tigger’s quality of life is suffering. It is a very difficult decision.
Damn, this is hard.
Damn, that sucks. This is part of the responsibility of taking care of a beloved pet, but the decision to “do the kind thing” is never easy. Just keep in mind all the love you’ve received from Tig over the years, and repay that love with one final kindness.
{{{{{to you both}}}}} will be holding you in our hearts
Is he hypo or hyperthyroid?
I’ve had a cat with slight white blood cell increase and early stage kidney failure live happily for over two years as long as she got her thyroid meds: in the form of a very small pill twice a day, which she got used to putting up with surprisingly fast, considering how hard she’d been to pill earlier in her life.
You might discuss with your vet treating the thyroid only. And I would certainly discuss with your vet whether he thinks Tigger is in pain, or only getting very weak (the cat above eventually died at home, in my arms, with no sign of fear or pain.)
Tigger’s condition isn’t necessarily the same as my cat’s, of course. I have taken several for euthanasia over the years, because they did seem to be in distress. Talk to the vet – it seems like you’ve got a good one.
So far, so good. Tig remains alive.
I had a good chat on the phone with my ex-wife tonight. We adopted Tigger, and I thought she should be brought into the loop. Note that she lives back in Ontario now, while I live in Alberta.
Most importantly, she’s a medical professional. Not a vet, she deals with humans, but she knows medicine and biology, and knows cats well, as a lot of her head-neck-chest work was done on cat cadavers (human cadavers are expensive, though she did once dissect a human male in her anatomy class).
I explained what was happening and what the vet suggested. She agreed with me that given Tigger’s age, and the results of the blood and urine tests, that it might be time to ask the vet about euthanasia. She explained just what the lab results meant; and given those, agreed that he may have come to the end of the road. She did mention that yes, some of the vet’s suggested treatments, might get Tig a couple of more weeks, perhaps months, or a year. But if the treatment is going to be extremely expensive, and the vet is not willing to give guarantees as to life expectancy (understandable), then there are no guarantees.
And during our call, Tig came down the hall, and fell over, and couldn’t get up. She heard him meowing in his distress, and I put the phone down, so I could get him back up on his feet. When I got back to the phone, she (hearing everything I was saying to Tig, like, “C’mon buddy, let’s get up, you can do it”) said, “Spoons, it’s time.”
I will speak with the vet on Friday about just that.
Holy hannah. As the song says, God sees the little sparrow fall. I hope he sees the orange cat fall too.
Holding you both in my thoughts.
Yes, it’s time to let him go. Love and peace to you both.
Yes, it’s time.
We hold both of you in our hearts. As you do each other.
Spoons, you made the right call. I know it’s hard. I’ll be thinking of you.
Ohh, my. hugs
It’s over. I returned from the vet’s a little while ago. Tigger slipped away peacefully.
The clinic was prepared. The room was lit softly, and there was a cozy blanket on the table.
We had a little time together before the procedure. I gave him head skritches, and rubbed him under his chin, which he always liked. He managed a weak purr. Tig has worn a collar all his life, and I asked that it remain on during the procedure, since it is familiar to him; but that I would like it back afterwards.
I arranged for a private cremation, and Tig’s ashes will be returned to me, in a nice cedar box. I also ordered two clay paw prints–one for my ex-wife, and one for me.
I’ve done this before, and it is always a little overwhelming. But Tig is out of his pain, and has gone to meet his friends at the Rainbow Bridge.
Thank you all for the kind words.
I’m so sorry, Spoons. Days like today are never easy for someone who loves a pet, but it sounds like you had given Tig a great home, and made his last few days as easy and peaceful as they could have been.
He knew you love him and he knew he was safe.
What a thoughtful way to honor what he meant to both of you.
By easing his way you took his pain onto you and that is great love.
Hugs and endless lovely memories of Tigger are wished for you.
This.
You brought him in safe to the end of his life.
It’s hard. But it’s what we pay for the love that we get. And get to give.