I lost my Baby this past Friday afternoon. The kidney disease got the best of him at last and we had to make that final vet trip. I had him from 6 weeks old - it’s been a good, long 18 years run, but I guess it couldn’t last forever. This past week was a rough one with very little sleep and a lot of nights spent walking the floors and holding him. He was a 16 pound, healthy cat in his prime - on Friday he was 8.2 pounds, just a skeleton with fur. Baby in his “nest” Baby in the windowseat Baby near the toy corner
I long prepared for this time by deciding to keep the cat number at three and get a kitten to fill Baby’s spot - the kitten is long paid for, and I’ve let the breeder know I"m ready when the “right one” comes along. So I know I’ll have a kitten before long to bond with and that hopefully he’ll be a new shadow in his own way. But somehow, it doesn’t help. I want my Baby back. I still have the other two cats that I love, but they’re both the independent type. I can’t pick them up and carry them around, they won’t lap sit, they don’t snuggle at night. Several times I’ve grabbed one of the other cats and tried to snuggle them - they won’t have it. They’re good cats, but they’re not lovers, and there’s never been a bond between us like there was with Baby and me. They came to me fully grown from shelters and I think that made the difference.
Baby was my little shadow - where I was, he was there too, right up to the end. Always wanted to be near me, or on me… Always butting my chin for kisses on his forehead… Almost every morning every day of his life except the last few he would paw open the shower door and join me… even the last few he would stand there poking his head in. Every night he snuggled tight to my side and patted my face with his paws if I drifted to sleep before him. Heck, I haven’t gone to the bathroom alone at home for 18 years - it’s very strange the past couple days to have nobody sitting in front of me staring, or trying to peek behind to see what the funny sounds were.
I know it was time, and I know I did right by him, but I miss him so terribly. I don’t know what to do anymore. My house is cleaner than it’s ever been. My yardwork is done. I can’t read or concentrate on anything. I can’t sleep - I’m so exhausted but I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I just wander from room to room and sit and get up and wander. I’m just so lost. I’m tired of crying. I hate crying. I’m so tired. Tomorrow I have to start the workweek and I suspect it’s going to be rough. How long does it take to start getting back to normal - or whatever will pass as normal without my little shadow?
Fluffy PickleSniffer, I also empathize with the grief you are experiencing over the loss of your dear companion. I would like to share a small experience of mine with you, not from a “me too” point of view but rather as an acknowledgement of your pain and your loss.
3 weeks ago, a dear friend had to have her beloved dog, Arnie, put to sleep. I had dog-sat Arnie many times so I grieved as well. He was truly a noble creature, knew and acted it, and I miss him fiercely. I sent a couple of cards to her in which I thanked her for the wonderful life she had given him (he was a rescued dog). I truly feel that how we treat those other creatures that come to depend on us and share our love and affection and the sorrow we feel at their passing says a great deal about who we are as human beings and the generosity of spirit we bring forth in our lives.
It will take a while – it was a few weeks before I could talk about my first and bestest kitty without tearing up, and a little longer before I didn’t feel actively sad.
Focus on sharing the love you and Baby had with any new kitties who come along. Keep yourself busy, but set aside some time to look at pictures and grieve a bit.
If it helps, the Rainbow Bridge does a weekly ceremony for all who’ve passed away. I’m not religious, but it did help to know that I wasn’t the only one mourning a friend.
My condolences. You sound pretty normal- you did a MARVELOUS job of getting a cat to 18! Impressive!
You’re in the early stages of grief- think of it as a wound you can’t sew up. It’ll scab over, sometimes will seem ok then will break open again, eventually heals but leaves a scar. The scar is your reminder, and that’s not a bad thing. Tincture of time will be about the only effective treatment. Unfortunately there’s no set schedule. And sometimes the weirdest things bring on the tears- my Rosie (a Labmix) died in July 2013 and this summer I was cleaning a rug- and when I turned it over there were white hairs (she shed a LOT) and oh, dear, that was the end of that cleaning session.
Think of the good times, and let those memories lighten grief.
It’s been a month and a half since I lost my baby and it’s still pretty awful. I’ve since gotten another dog, a month after I lost Dolly, and it’s still not the same. The relationship is awkward and is taking time and work. My relationship with Dolly was perfect and beautiful. The new dog some times makes things feel worse because it amplifies the fact that she is not Dolly and Dolly is not here.
But…we gotta move on. I’ll tell you it does not stop after a month and a half. Six months? A year? I don’t know. They’re not coming back, and we have new pets to give love to. Hopefully we can transfer at least a fraction of that love and time and energy to these new pets because we picked them, and they deserve it.
I’m so sorry for your loss. It hurts, I know. It sucks. Let’s hope it gets better.
It took us about two years to get to the point of taking in another cat. We’re glad we did, as Q’itih is an affectionate and playful cuddler. It takes longer than you think it will to get past those last days, especially if you tend to second guess about maybe having waited too long. Don’t beat yourself up; just try to remember all those good years.
Fluffy, I’m so very sorry! What a beautiful boy. I lost my Tickle to CRF as well, two years ago. She was 19 and I’d had her since she was a feral kitten, so I understand a lot of what you’re feeling. I wondered how the Hell I was supposed to get through the rest of my life without her.
Two things I did. I wrote a letter to Tickle, and recalled every good time I could remember, every one of her mannerisms and habits, anything else I didn’t want to forget. I did that for about a month, and told her how much I loved her and missed her, over and over. I can’t even look at it now without crying, but I know all those little things about her are safe and I won’t forget them.
The second thing I did was a Shutterfly photo book in tribute to her life. It’s sitting on my shelf so I can see her beautiful face whenever I look up from the computer.
Both of these things made me cry and cry, of course, but it did help to confront the pain head-on. It takes time, I think that’s the most important thing to realize. It gets better slowly. One day you’ll realize that while the pain’s still there, you can cope with it a little better. Then it keeps getting better in small increments.
THank you all for your responses - EmilyG, Sir T-Cups, burpo the wonder mutt, Shakes, jimbuff314, GrumpyBunny, Rachellelogram, The Holdsworth Effec, ZipperJJ, Chefguy, Helena330 - it means more to me than I can put into words. I really needed to just get it out and it helps to know someone was willing to “listen” and respond. Thanks guys
It’s been 3 weeks today and still very difficult and I still cry, but slowly getting to a new normal here. My cat Anna had no problem at all adjusting after the first couple days, but my cat Rummy is having as hard a time as I am, I think. He hasn’t eaten much, sleeps alot, cries and howls at night. He was just at the vet for his yearly shots and checkup a month previous and all was fine. Doesn’t seem to be hurting anywhere or be sick, isn’t running a fever. I think he’s just depressed and grieving, yet I’m getting worried enough to call the vet to make sure. sigh Hate bothering the vet with a healthy cat - yet this isn’t healthy, and a visit would at least ease my mind if nothing else. Anyway, things are slowly getting better. Thanks again everyone!
It’s been over 30 years,and I still grieve over Bear … Big black German Shepard If he heard something outside that needed checked ,he’d stick his nose in my ear and blow gently… Then stand by the bed with his hackles up and growling low… I’d slide out of bed and grab the .22 and go check… Sometimes 'Possum,sometimes very startled human…
Very sorry for your loss. We lost our Am Staff a year ago and in a lot of ways I’m still recovering from it. I don’t know if I ever want another pet simply cause i never want to go through this again.
Well I took Rummy to the vet - he was just curled in a tight ball all day and I figured with the weekend coming up, I’d better get him in. Good thing too - he has a urinary tract infection, peed blood all over the table and floor when the vet was checking him and very tender in his tummy too. He was also dehydrated. So he got IV fluids and 2 weeks worth of antibiotics. The vet also sent us home with a week’s worth of Purina UR cans to try him on. He spent a short time wandering the house when we got home, and then curled up again and is sleeping. Poor little guy.
It was sort of a deja vu moment though at the vet - same room, same table, and a sick orange cat between us. Very, very weird feeling for me.
Thanks again guys!
I missed this thread the first time around. I’m sorry to hear about Baby, Fluffy. Yes, it takes awhile for the grief to fade. You never really “get over” losing a pet, but at least after awhile you think of your pet in happier times rather than feeling sad all of the time. I’m glad to hear Rummy’s condition is treatable and hope that he’s feeling better soon.
You’ve received good advice in this thread, but the real answer to that question is “Never. Not completely.” But you have a responsibility to Rummy before he pines away. Pets aren’t people, and they need the company of a creature that thinks like them; that likes the same things; that plays the same games; that they can boss around or will boss them around.* It will be a while before they get used to each other, but the most important thing to tell yourself when you catch yourself petting the new cat or laughing at its antics is YOU ARE NOT “CHEATING” ON BABY! (Yes, I’ve had pangs of that.) She would want you to be happy.
When my collie died she left my lab cross forlorn. She had been the Alpha Bitch of the neighborhood, and he didn’t know what to do with himself, being a natural Omega. He wasn’t fit for command, didn’t want to command, and was a nervous wreck. But when he met the Little Girls at my daughter’s place Thisbe, a little, deformed Westie/Shih Tzu and the sweetest dog ever (if your human), took apiece out of daughter’s Bull Terrier Alpha Bitch for looking at her cross-eyed (which is the only way a Bull Terrier can look at anything), he fell in love. He needs her to tell him he’s subservient, and she does it by simply being cool. The big, ferocious Bull is just scared of her.
