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She stayed in the closet all last night. This morning early I got up to check on her. She was still growling and salivating in the closet, and she seemed to have lost control of her legs. I couldn't take leaving her alone, cold and wet on the hard closet floor anymore, even though she seemed to want to be left alone, but I bundled her up in a warm, clean, fluffy towel, and cuddled her and dried her off. She smelt like she had urinated.
She seems to be dying now. All this morning she has had fits of growling that sound like she's in great pain. She spasms and flails wildly, but can't stand or even sit up now. She's lying on the bed, and seems to recognize me in between fits, when I tell her I love her and I'm right here with her. I'm not touching her, aside from occasionally stroking her head and the left side of her face, because I don't want to cause her any more pain.
Dr. George and I had talked about it a while back, and if she dies, he wants to do an autopsy, and I want him to as well, so that we can know the truth, as far as we are able, about exactly what was happening to her and what we did that was right and wrong. I'm sorry she's having to be in pain. If Dr. George were here he could probably stop that. But I can't. All I can do is be here with her in her suffering, and tell her I love her.
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Rest easy, kitty cat, and let Mommy take care of you instead of hiding from her. Tatiana, please let me know if there's anything I can do for you.
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Thank you, everyone. Dr. George just called me and we discussed it in great detail. He agrees that she's dying but can't get back into town before tomorrow morning at 10am. He thinks I should take her to the emergency animal clinic to be euthanized. I hate it that she can't die at home, on her own bed, but I don't want her to suffer any more pain. Hopefully she has been out of it for most of this time, but it seems from watching as though she's in great agony. My poor baby. I want her not to hurt.
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What a difficult, painful time for both of you. At least she has love.
I think she trusts you to do the right thing, regardless of what that is. I think that maybe, for her, whatever Mother chooses will be the right thing. Even if her body resists, she knows you have loved her for so long and that you still do.
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The lady at the emergency clinic sounded like me and my dying cat were the last of her worries. She said they'd try to do it as quickly as possible, but she couldn't promise anything. It's all the way across town, and when I went to touch Drive By to get ready to pick her up and carry her, she made a piteous mewing sound, one that sounded like herself, asking me to please not move her or jostle her around.
I don't think I want to take her there.
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We don't know for sure, but it does seem that the wrestling with death that the body goes through isn't really reflective of what is going on inside the mind (so to speak). That is, the body has defense mechanisms to keep it alive -- gasping "agonal breaths," sometimes contortions -- but this doesn't seem to be connected to pain on PET scans.
Don't be afraid of her body if it struggles. It is supposed to. I think we have to go through that to say goodbye to our bodies, too. But I don't think it hurts like it looks like sometimes -- I think it's a way of letting go, not a traumatic experience. Just letting go of things that have been held so tight and close.
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She has been very feisty, very happy, and very alive for such a magnificently long and adventurous life. What an amazing cat! What an amazing Mom!
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The vet right down the street, where she had gone to get xrays before, was open today, by some miracle. They were able to get to her right away. She's lying in state on my bed now. I suppose I will bury her this evening out back, amongst the bamboo, beside Brando, her great friend.
Thank you so much for listening and being here with us. In so many ways I know I am blessed.
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CT, thanks for the descriptions. You are like me and feel comforted by knowing exactly what is happening. And you know that I want to know the truth, as near as we can know it, rather than some comforting fiction.
The two times I almost died, it was a feeling of peace and release. It was a lovely feeling, and as I was coming back the second time, it felt rather hard to have to be alive again, to have to worry again about all the daily cares. I hope that she feels the same way, that she finds death to be a welcome peace. I know that when I "came to" that time, the thought that was in my head was that we should not mourn for the dead. They are in a good place.
That doesn't mean I don't grieve for her. I will miss her a lot. I hope I get to see her again someday, when we will both understand each other completely. I hope she will always know how much I loved her.
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I am moved by this story, Tatiana, and not just because I know you are sad and am sad for you. I'm moved because your love for her has been so strong and so fierce, because you did everything you could. You have been her champion as long as she knew you. I am sure she knew this.
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quote:Originally posted by Tatiana: CT, thanks for the descriptions. You are like me and feel comforted by knowing exactly what is happening. And you know that I want to know the truth, as near as we can know it, rather than some comforting fiction.
The two times I almost died, it was a feeling of peace and release. It was a lovely feeling, and as I was coming back the second time, it felt rather hard to have to be alive again, to have to worry again about all the daily cares. I hope that she feels the same way, that she finds death to be a welcome peace. I know that when I "came to" that time, the thought that was in my head was that we should not mourn for the dead. They are in a good place.
That doesn't mean I don't grieve for her. I will miss her a lot. I hope I get to see her again someday, when we will both understand each other completely. I hope she will always know how much I loved her.
I know. I understand completely.
I'm so sorry. The loss of a friend is always terribly painful. But you bore witness, and you were with her, and that is Good.
Tatiana, before you bury her body -- were you still considering an autopsy, or have you made a different decision? (I just was rereading the thread and wanted to make sure your prior consideration wasn't overlooked in the middle of this difficult time.)
I wish I could give you a big, real-life hug right now and take you out for ice cream. You could tell stories about her and cry all you wanted. You know you can still do that here if you want, anytime.
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I asked Dr. George about the autopsy, and he said he didn't think there was anything he could learn that would help other kitties. I spoke to him about my wish to understand in great detail exactly what was going on, and which things we did or didn't do could have been wiser. He explained to me that the things he would see now would not tell him that. They would tell him that her bowel was inflamed, her lungs were scarred, that she was severely malnourished, and that her organs failed. There's no way we can understand all these things in exact detail. We know the broad outlines very well. He said I'm trying to apply a precision which is possible with machinery to a biological system which is complex all the way down to the molecular level, and not possible to understand with the same precision. So I know that he is right. If he doesn't think there's anything to be learned, then even if he did it for my sake, it wouldn't teach us more than we already know.
So we're not going to do an autopsy. If I were a doctor or a vet, I probably would, but I don't know enough for it to tell me anything. Dr. George is wise and brilliant, and if he knows he wouldn't learn anything, then there's no sense in him doing it for my sake.
We're going to talk more about it later, and he's going to tell me everything he knows about what was going on and why. I will be glad to learn that.
Right now I find that I just don't want to bury her. Maybe I will feel like I can later on this evening.
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quote:Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
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I've always liked that, Goody. Thank you for posting it now.
Tatiana, that's exactly why I didn't have my Minx's body autopsied. I did have her cremated, though, and the little vase sits on my desk next to the china doll of my father's grandmother and my mother's copy of Candide. I like having something of those I loved so close to me.
I'd wanted to bury her ashes at the site of the Madison yearly fireworks. Minx loved thunderstorms, you see -- the noise and the lightening, all of it -- so I thought she'd have liked front-row seating for Rhythm & Booms every year. But I'm glad I can take her with me to Vancouver. It is such a silly thing, when I think about it, but it makes me so happy when I'm tired to look up and remember how she would smile at me with her eyes.
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CT, that's a good idea. I felt bad when I left Peaches' gravesite behind at my old house. I don't know why but having my dead with me in my home earth feels right. I almost dug her up and brought her here.
I hope to keep this house for a long time. Maybe to leave it to someone else who loves it. Here in the woods are buried Kitty, Sparkles, Brando, and soon Drive By. Kitty was born in 1972, so we have some history here. I'm trying to decide now whether I should put anything in Drive By's grave with her. The object she was most attached to was her heating pad. Maybe I'll put it underneath her in the ground. Then if they have 120VAC power in the afterlife, she can at least be warm.
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Ah, Anne Kate, I'm so sorry. I'm glad that you were able to bear witness for her, as CT put it.
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I'm so sorry that you lost your precious DriveBy. I'm glad you were able to finally find a good clinic to go to take her to to be put to sleep. I hope they were as caring and wonderful as the people at the clinic I took Maxx to when he was put to sleep.
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Thank you all so much! <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<hugs>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Your posts mean a whole lot to me. I buried her out back yesterday evening. I finally had to go ahead and do it, because having her here beside me became too painful, when my subconscious kept seeing her out of the corner of my eye and thinking she was alive still. Then my conscious mind would tell it no, it was mistaken, and it would mourn anew each time. I do feel quite bereft, because she was so much a part of my life, so lively and loving, and that life is gone now. But that is how grieving is. A new life will arise eventually, and it will be good.
I have learned when doing these things, to do what feels right, and what felt right last night was to give her some grave goods, to take with her into the next life. Who knows? Maybe the Egyptians had it right, and the spiritual versions of those things will be with her in the next life, and she will enjoy them there, my last gifts. So I found a small burlap bag that someone had given me once and put in it some beautiful colored shiny rocks, her favorite bottle cap that she loved to bat around on the floor, a few splinters from her scratching post, one of my old drivers licenses so she can find me again , and tied all that up with a string. Then I wrapped her in a pillowcase and put her on her heating pad, which was the only object to which she was really attached. I put the little sack in the curl of her paws, and then I draped over her shroud several strings of shiny beads, such as a cat might enjoy chasing after and playing with.
I dug as deeply as I could into the soft dirt beside Brando's grave in the bamboo patch, and lowered her into the earth with these few things. Then I covered her over and found a large rock to set on top to mark the spot. I said a prayer and recited this poem by A.E. Housman.
O thou that from thy mansion Through time and place to roam, Dost send abroad thy children, And then dost call them home,
That men and tribes and nations And all thy hand hath made May shelter them from sunshine In thine eternal shade:
We now to peace and darkness And earth and thee restore Thy creature that thou madest And wilt cast forth no more.