I truly feel for you and I’m so sorry for you loss. 
November 26, 2012 was the worst day of my 38-year life because I had to do the unthinkable and have my best buddy and constant companion euthanized.
My baby girl (kitty), Anna, was 12 years old and we had 10.5 great years together. She was found outside of a truck stop, starving and in sub-freezing weather by a truck driver. He went inside to buy her some milk and lunch meat then he brought her back to his truck to feed her where it was warm. He only planned to feed her, but he ended up driving 14 hours from Northern Ohio back to Georgia with her asleep in his lap most of the way! I had just started a new job at the same company where his mother-in-law worked. I walked into the break room one day, saw a flyer with her photo and instantly knew that she was mine!
She was domestic long hair and what I refer to a tuxedo pattern (black and white). My vet commented that she had the most symmetrical coloring of any black and white she’d ever seen. She also had the most piercing green eyes that always made you wonder what she was up to or what trouble she’d get into next. She was always waiting at the door for me and greeted me vocally and anxiously waited for me to sit down and give her the attention she was entitled to…
I took her to vet two times per year for checkups, had annual dental cleanings and she had the most healthy organic cat food that I could buy. Just two months before she died, my vet did a senior cat health profile including blood and urine tests. She was amazed at the results and said that most five year old cats weren’t nearly as healthy. She had never seen a cat over 10 years old with perfect kidney function until my Anna.
After that glowing report, my vet told me to keep taking care of her just like I always had and it was possible that she might live to see her 20th birthday or even longer. I had never contemplated the idea that someday I would lose her and it was the furthest thing from my mind after such a great health report.
On a Saturday night two months later, she jumped up to get into bed with me like she did every night…but she didn’t make it all the way and fell to the floor. Then on the second try, she didn’t make it again. My heart sank because I knew something was VERY wrong! Her acrobatic stunts never ceased to amaze me, but suddenly she couldn’t manage to jump up onto the bed…
I live in rural North Georgia and the nearest Emergency Animal Hospital is over 60 miles away. At 1am on a Sunday morning, I made the drive in just under 40 minutes! I live down the street from my my parents (mom & step-dad) and my 93-year old grandma lives in the house between us. I help them take care of her and we keep $10k in a ‘Family Emergency Fund’ so we can always be prepared for almost anything the happens, especially with nana. I called my mom while I was on the way to the e-vet because my car has a very distinct sound when you floor it and the engine and turbocharger are screaming like a banshee! I was worried that she heard me leave and wanted to let her know what was going on. It took 10 minutes of arguing to keep her and my step-dad from coming to the vet’s office to wait with me. They made it clear that money was no object, to have them do any and everything possible to help Anna. Mom told me to use the ‘Family E-fund’ and if that wasn’t enought ($10k0 that she could be there within an hour to write a check for any amount necessary! (I have AWESOME parents, if you haven’t already figured that out. And my step-dad and I couldn’t love one another any more if we did share DNA…he’s my dad.)
Anna’s belly and abdomen seemed to be bloated a bit. Since she had long hair and always kept herself perfectly groomed, she left me a hairball ‘present’ almost every day despite the hairball medicine. I convinced myself that she had a blockage from and they’d probably need to do surgery to clear it. That was the the only thing that made sense at the time…
Two vet techs met me at the front door when I arrived. Apparently turning into the parking lot at 40mph and then accelerating toward the front door made enough noise for them to hear. The took Anna back to the exam area and I had to wait in the lobby. Animals aren’t allowed to bring their humans into the exam area because every second counts in many cases and an emotional owner only distracts them from working as fast as possible and can also upset the animal. I understand the policy but it still pissed me off!
About 45 minutes later, I was taken to a ‘meeting’ room where the vet comes to talk with people about their pet’s condition and, often, explain that hard decisions need to be made. A middle-aged woman in a lab coat came into the room and told me that Anna had a heart murmur and the ‘bloated’ appearnance was due to fluid filling her chest cavity. There were three possible diagnoses, but all were equally fatal and she was 99% certain it was a disease called FIP (Feline Infectous Peritonitis). She told told me that the fluid would cause Anna’s breathing to become labored within 24-48 hours and she would eventually drown/suffocate after hours of suffering and pain. She tried to soften the blow a bit by saying, “You’re going to need to make some very hard decisions within the next day or two at most”. It was aroud 3am on Sunday at this point and I asked her if she thought it was reasonable for me to take Anna back home and then have my vet euthanize her the following morning, barely 24 hours later. She felt that was a very good plan and would give me a day to say goodbye to Anna also.
Somehow, I had shut down my emotions and felt like I was in ‘robot-mode’ after that. The only exception was about 5 minutes after we left and were heading home. I started crying (wailing would be a better description) and the tears blinded me to the point that I couldn’t see the road. I should have pulled over and taken a few minutes to regain composure. And that’s what I did after I smashed into the median curb casuing about $2400 in damage to my car! At that point, I just popped on the spare and drove on home, busted suspension and all.
I didn’t close my eyes to sleep for a single second on that Sunday and I stayed up all night Sunday night with Anna laying on my pillow asleep cuddled up aginst my face. I emailed my vet on Sunday afternoon to let her know the situation and that I needed her first thing Monday morning. She actually called me and offered to come to my house (40 miles from where she lives) that night if I felt Anna was suffering. She asked what time I wanted to bring her in the next morning and I said 10am would be good if they could work me in at that time. Instead, she had the receptionist reschedule EVERY appointment from 9:30am until noon so the office would be totally private. I later found out that she worked until 8pm that night (usually closed at 5pm) to handle all the appts that had been moved to clear things out for me!
My little sister offered to go with me and I took her up on the offer. I had no clue how I would react to what was gong to happen and I might need the support! As soon as we arrived, my vet (Dr. Sally) gave her a quick exam and assured me that it was FIP and that the most loving, selfless thing I could possibly do for my baby was to end her life before she really started to suffer. I couldn’t speak or even nod, but she said the look of pain on my face told her that I wanted to do it immediately. A few minutes later, they administered the first shot which is a heavy dose of the drug they use to put them under for surgery. I held her against my chest with her head on my shoulder lilke a baby as the drug took effect and I could feel her paws going limp as she went unconscious. I talked to her the entire time and told her how great she had made my life. I also told her that it was time for her go and that I would be okay on my own, but I’d never forget her for one second. And if there is an afterlife, I expected her to be waiting for me someday, perhaps shredding a roll of toilet paper (her favorite daily activity) so I find her in the crowd…
When she was out cold, they shaved a spot on her lilttle front paw to find a vein and injected a mega-dose of the same drug which would cause her heart to stop in about 60 seconds. The vet tech gave me a stethescope so I could listen along with Dr. Sally as my baby’s heart beats quickly grew slower and slower…then stopped.
At that point, I snapped out of ‘robot-mode’, walked out of the exam room into th elobby and fell back on the wall crying uncontrollably. A few moments later, I slid down to the floor and wailed my guts out, literally…I cried so damn hard that I started heaving and vomiting. In retrospect, I was and still am so touched by the wondeful people at my vet’s office. Each one of them spent time down there on the floor hugging me (and/or holding the trash can for me to puke) and I adore them for it!
Dr. Sally called me that night and again two days later just to check on me. Over the next week, I received a total of 11 other phone calls from various other employees at her office, all just to ask if they could do anything for me…
I did some reserach a few days after Anna died and discovered that the odds of a cat her age and in great health dying from FIP were 1 in 8,000!!! It’s caused by a mutation of a virus that 40% of all cats have in their system and she contracted it fron her mother and/or littermates, so it was there all along and nothing I could have done could have changed a thing.
But why did she have to be the 1 in 8000 that died from it??? I was mad as hell and felt so cheated because I expected so much more time with her…and almost a year later, I’m still MAD AS HELL! I consider my agnostic (trust me, growing up gay in a Pentecostal Church will turn anyone against religion), but if there actually is a God, he is a sadistic, cruel fucking asshole douchebag! (Oops, I think I broke one of the ‘10 Suggestions, er, Commandments’…about taking the Lord’s name in vain!..I’m so God Damn sorry about that!)
At times, I miss her even more than I did in the weeks following her death. I’ve had several cats durinv my 38 years, but within a few months of losing one I was ready to love a new one. But this time is different. I don’t think I have the ability to love another cat and I have NO desire to try! I don’t want another cat, I want my Anna. A few months ago, I fostered an orphan five week old kitten for several days while his new family was closing on the purchase of their new home and moving in. And I didn’t even feel a tinge of love for that little fellow…other than the love and general affection I feel toward all cats and dogs. My heart is broken and time hasn’t healed it one bit. :mad:
My Nana’s cat came to live with me about four years ago when she was in the hosptial for 32 days and then on bed rest at mom’s for another two months. Even when she went back to living in her house, he just stayed with me and Anna. He was totally in love with her and even after liiving together for several years, she wouldn’t give him the time of day! He hasn’t been the same since she died either. For weeks he searched the house connstantly searching and cryign out for her…and when he finally realized that she wasn’t coming back, he began staying side constantly and following my every move. I can’t even go to toilet or get up at night and go to the kitchen for some water without my ‘shadow’. He is terrifed that I’m going to leave him too…it’s pitiful. And while I love the goofball (he’s 15, by the way), my affection for him and our relationship is nothing like the one Anna and I shared. When he’s gone, unless I have some sort of life-altering epiphany and change of heart, I doubt I’ll ever have another cat…
Sorry for my endless rambling, but I can’t seem to stop when I start talking about Anna.
One final thing- I noticed your comment about any new pets possibly out-living you and being concerned about that. My parents updated their will last year and named a guardian for their two cats and their Golden Retrievrer, as well as two alternate guardians as backups. Each guardian will get $10k per animal to feed and care for them. They also gave the guardian(s) an opportunity to adopt another rescue cat or dog and, if they choose to do so, they get $20k per animal to feed and care for them…
Of course, the first named guardian for all three is yours truly! But I’m not sure about adopting more after they’re gone, even at $20k a pop…although it would piss off my siblings more than words can describe…and nothing makes me happier than that…
But I still miss my Anna, dammit!
I see you named them after the guy who used to conduct my local orchestra.
Those are wonderful photos Geoff.