My oldest cat...

[DoYouKubuntu]

Last September my wife and I went out of town for a week. Our cat was very old and frail. Cathy was afraid we would come back with a dead leaky cat on the carpet. We couldn't change our vacation so we put her in the garage with bedding, food, water, etc. She was used to being in the garage at times so she was OK with that.

When we came home we mediately checked on her. She was still alive. When she saw us she wobbled over to us and laid down on the floor where we petted her and talked to her. About 15 minutes later she was dead.

It was interesting that she waited till we got back home before she passed.

Aw...that's sad, but touching. And not surprising, to me anyway.

[DoYouKubuntu]

I know how you feel.

Red, Midge, Sam, Daisy, Reba and Rascal.... Huge holes that never fill. My wife can't look at ads showing dogs or cats in horrible conditions. Reba and Rascal were miniature toy poodles. Reba bonded to my wife and Rascal to me. They slept on our bed and went everywhere we went.

Daisy made the biggest hole. A mix of a winner and a Welch corgi with a brown coat, big ears and beautiful eyes. We were buds. He favorite sport was squirrel hunting (with our eyes, not guns). She knew it was a game and when we went to Roper Park she scanned the trees for squirrels with the eye of an eagle. I kept count of how many we saw. She usually won. She was 17 years old when she began having trouble eating because of her teeth. I took her to the vet for dental work. He said there was a possibility she might not survive surgery. She stopped breathing on the table twice and was revived. When I took her home she was a different dog. She was fearful and no longer recognized anyone. She hid under a chair and growled at everyone who approached. My mother in-law had been living with us for nearly twenty years. She had been bed bound for months. A week before I took Daisy to the vet she stopped eating and drinking water, symptoms that Hospice said indicated that her time was coming. Hazel hadn't responded to anyone for that entire week. Suddenly, on Sunday afternoon, Daisy snapped out of it and ran to me with a grin and a tail wag. I picked her up and took her in to see Hazel. because Daisy liked Hazel as well. When I said "Look, Hazel, here is Daisy!", Hazel rolled her head around, opened her eyes and smiled at Daisy. Daisy responded with a lick. Then Hazel closed her eyes and rolled her head back. A half an hour later Daisy was fearful again. Later than evening Hazel began fish-breathing and died that night. Daisy soon followed. I had Daisy cremated and placed the vial containing her ashes in the crook of Hazel's elbow as she laid in her casket. On Hazel's tombstone is carved "Remembering Daisy ...". That was 1998. It took five years before we could rescue two poodles from a puppy mill.

Oh, wow. What an amazing, beautiful story, GG.

You reminded me of something I hadn't thought about lately.

** WARNING ** Long story begins here!

When my mom was in her last six weeks, she was in a DIFFERENT world from the rest of us. It started the night she choked on dinner; I called 911 and they were here in less than two minutes; she was breathing on her own as they took her to the ER. The doctors extracted a piece of food, but she never had complete loss of breathing...or so we thought.

Something changed that night. It was subtle at first--because I didn't realize what I was seeing. I left her at the hospital that night--they wanted to keep her for observation. When I got there in the morning and went up to her room, I had part of her dentures with me; they had flown out when the paramedics worked on her. There was a nurse with her as I walked in. I said, "Look, Mom, I have the other part of your dentures!" The nurse said, "She told us she didn't have bottom dentures. " I was like, um, Mom, WTF?! I laughed it off. SHE (Mom) laughed it off. She could, and often did, get this childish gleam in her eyes--and that gleam was there, so I thought, okay, you were having a little fun with the nurses.

But, no, that wasn't it.

She was hospitalized for a few days, and each day when I was with her it was becoming more and more obvious that SOMETHING was different. But it wasn't until she came home that I REALLY saw it and figured it out. She was in a different time/space/universe/reality. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, despite having done tons of volunteer work that involved elderly and/or dying people, and I don't recall ever reading about it. She knew me. She knew my husband. And our daughter. And my cousin. Etc. But not necessarily TODAY'S version of us. For example, one day when my cousin and her daughter were here, Mom fully recognized my cousin--but looked at her daughter like she was an alien visiting from Mars. Mom asked my cousin, "so what are you planning to do when you finish high school?" I glanced over at my cousin and quickly said, "oh, Mom, didn't she tell you? She's going to UCLA to study psychology!" And then my cousin picked up from there. My cousin and I were in our 50s at the time. Mom knew that my cousin had a daughter--but she thought she was still a baby--but that was on a DIFFERENT day from the high school question... When Mom looked at my niece like an alien, it was because she didn't recognize the 20-something-year-old version, nor could she reconcile a 20-something with a mother who was finishing high school and heading off to college.

Mom thought my daughter was a toddler, climbing on her bed wanting attention. My daughter has two little boys, who were 3 and 5 at the time.

This one day I went into her room and she looked absolutely grief-stricken. I asked, "Mom, what's wrong?!" She said, "Panther...a car ran over Panther...I just saw a car hit Panther...and...he's DEAD..." I looked out the window, from her vantage point, and saw nothing that could've looked like a cat being hit by a car, nor had I heard ANYTHING like tires screeching. We have peafowl roaming the neighborhood, and cars are always very careful and patient; I've never seen or heard of a peacock being hit, and I knew that definitely hadn't just happened, so that wasn't it. She was in tears, just sobbing quietly. I left her room, grabbed Panther--who had been happily snoozing in the living room--and took him to her. I said, "MOM! Look! It's Panther! The car didn't hit him--it just LOOKED like it did--but it really didn't, see, he's FINE!!" and I put him on her tummy. She just laid there, holding him tight, saying, "Panther...Panther..."

For a few weeks she thought we were at the hotel at our favorite casino, Pechanga, which is south of here, in Temecula. We had TALKED about staying at its hotel, but we'd never actually done it. We used to drive out there for the day and then come back, because I didn't like leaving our pets alone. But she had us in the hotel, and she'd say things like "when can we go downstairs to play the slot machines?" This house is one story. There was this HUGE manhunt on for a fugitive, Christopher Dorner, at the time, and we used him as our go-to excuse when she wanted to leave the hotel room. We'd say, "have you seen the updates on the news? they're still looking for that fugitive--and the front desk told us it's not safe to leave our rooms!" We managed to continue the ruse even after he was caught/killed. We just didn't let her see the news reports!

[GreyGeek]

Amazing account. In the last few years of her life Hazel was having mini-strokes. They got worse as the years progressed. She became wheel-chair bound about a year before she was bed bound. During that time she became confused much like your mom and when June would change a blouse or put on a jacket she though June was a different woman. One day she whispered to June, "You watch Jerry closely, he's seeing other women!". That was shortly before she became bed bound.

At times she wouldn't recognize June or I. Or, she'd ask about an event in the life of someone who had been dead for years and whose funeral she had attended. When reminded of the funeral she'd look at you like you were lying, then say "Oh, ya", but she didn't mean it. The only one she consistently recognized during that period was Daisy.

[DoYouKubuntu]

Amazing account. In the last few years of her life Hazel was having mini-strokes. They got worse as the years progressed. She became wheel-chair bound about a year before she was bed bound. During that time she became confused much like your mom and when June would change a blouse or put on a jacket she though June was a different woman. One day she whispered to June, "You watch Jerry closely, he's seeing other women!". That was shortly before she became bed bound.

At times she wouldn't recognize June or I. Or, she'd ask about an event in the life of someone who had been dead for years and whose funeral she had attended. When reminded of the funeral she'd look at you like you were lying, then say "Oh, ya", but she didn't mean it. The only one she consistently recognized during that period was Daisy.

* nodding knowingly *

[bendy]

More condolences - another one here who knows how you feel.

We had several cats but one in particular we rescued from a shelter after she had been hit by a car but never claimed by her "owners". I put the "" around owners because as every cat lover knows, you don't own cats, they just choose to live with you (or not). She was a highly-strung tortoiseshell, but she loved me (and me her) with an amazing intensity. Unfortunately she turned out to be older than the vets initially thought and ending up suffering from all of the old-cat diseases - renal problems, thryoid problems etc. But I cared for her and medicated her for many years until the time came for "that visit" to the vet. Afterwards, I sat in my car outside the vet and cried - like REALLY cried as in howling and bawling my eyes out - for the first time since I was a child.

Thing is - it was my girlfriends idea to get cats (for company when I was away with work), and I never intended to get close to them. But this one chose me.......

[DoYouKubuntu]

More condolences - another one here who knows how you feel.

Thank you.

We had several cats but one in particular we rescued from a shelter after she had been hit by a car but never claimed by her "owners". I put the "" around owners because as every cat lover knows, you don't own cats, they just choose to live with you (or not). She was a highly-strung tortoiseshell, but she loved me (and me her) with an amazing intensity. Unfortunately she turned out to be older than the vets initially thought and ending up suffering from all of the old-cat diseases - renal problems, thryoid problems etc. But I cared for her and medicated her for many years until the time came for "that visit" to the vet. Afterwards, I sat in my car outside the vet and cried - like REALLY cried as in howling and bawling my eyes out - for the first time since I was a child.

Thing is - it was my girlfriends idea to get cats (for company when I was away with work), and I never intended to get close to them. But this one chose me.......

* nodding knowingly, again *

[MrSteve]

i know the feeling we have had several cats and dogs over time. each have a place in our hearts and are missed and remembered
at this time we have two doberman puppies, now 9 months old, both dogs came from the dogs trust rescue centre at 12 weeks old. they have made a home ...

[DoYouKubuntu]

i know the feeling we have had several cats and dogs over time. each have a place in our hearts and are missed and remembered
at this time we have two doberman puppies, now 9 months old, both dogs came from the dogs trust rescue centre at 12 weeks old. they have made a home ...

Thanks for adopting the two puppies! Are they siblings, or they just both happen to be the same age?

[MrSteve]

they are both the same age as far as im aware they are unrelated. but both get on well and have settled down nicely even if they are both a little mad ...

[DoYouKubuntu]

they are both the same age as far as im aware they are unrelated. but both get on well and have settled down nicely even if they are both a little mad ...

I get that!

My Freddie Mercury and Queen, Great Danes, were siblings, but they were as different as night and day. The Fredster was laid back, totally chill, only barking or getting worked up when there was a REASON for it. Queenie...way over on the other hand...was high-strung, always running around--which is loads of fun inside, you know?--always barking, chewing on things...ah...I miss that. No, really, I do. I miss my kids.

Update on the Panther situation: There's an...um...interesting? thing happening since he died. Someone is pooping ON MY BED. Right where Panther died. No, this has NEVER happened before. I'm always so thankful that all my cats, even the two ferals, use the boxes and nowhere else. But this started the day after Panther died. I THINK I know who the culprit is, but I'm not sure. At any rate, it's very unpleasant. I've had to tear apart the bed three times so far. I'm spraying the bed with Feliway, which uses synthetic cat pheromones to modify a cat's behavior. I still had some left from when I adopted my most recent cat--and he started peeing in places he shouldn't have! I'm hoping it works...

[SecretCode]

More condolences (I've come to this thread late).

All the dogs and cats we've lost have been under vet's care - none at home. I can't decide if this is fortunate ...

The longer you've had the animal in your life, the bigger the hole is. But in some ways the hardest for me was a little Maltese poodle we has who had to be put down before 2 years old. She had some joint problems and was unable to jump down off chair-height things (but she could have lived a long time with this). Plus she had what I think is called cerebral dysplasia, and this manifested as increasing shaking and after a while problems with eating and other things. There wasn't any treatment let alone cure. I was with her at the vet when they put her down, and the one thing that made it OK was seeing her finally get relief from that shaking.

[DoYouKubuntu]

More condolences (I've come to this thread late).

Thanks, SC.

All the dogs and cats we've lost have been under vet's care - none at home. I can't decide if this is fortunate ...

From my experience, either way has its pluses and minuses.

The thing about taking them in to be put down is that it's so scary and traumatic for the pet, and they're already suffering anyway. So that's a minus. But, because they're suffering, it puts an end to that, so that's a plus. Having them die at home, unaided, is good for the pet but ONLY if they're not suffering. For example, Panther was clearly deteriorating due to old age for a couple of years before he died. Visits to the vet had yielded nothing in terms of any health issues. He was just getting old. In the months leading up to his death, it was clear that his time was limited. And in the days before his death, I knew the end was near. His death was peaceful and quiet, in familiar surroundings, so that was a big plus--for him. For me? Not so much! It was really tough emotionally.

The other huge minus about euthanasia is how hard THAT is on the human(s) involved. I always insist on personally being there, holding them, comforting them, as they're going to 'sleep' for the last time. It's awful...and I turn into a total emotional wreck, sobbing and heaving, and not caring what anyone thinks!

The longer you've had the animal in your life, the bigger the hole is. But in some ways the hardest for me was a little Maltese poodle we has who had to be put down before 2 years old. She had some joint problems and was unable to jump down off chair-height things (but she could have lived a long time with this). Plus she had what I think is called cerebral dysplasia, and this manifested as increasing shaking and after a while problems with eating and other things. There wasn't any treatment let alone cure. I was with her at the vet when they put her down, and the one thing that made it OK was seeing her finally get relief from that shaking.

Oh, gee... Yes, I totally get why you felt that way. I'm sorry for your loss. But, as you know, it was the right thing to do.

[DoYouKubuntu]

My vet called Monday to let me know that Panther's ashes are ready. I made an appointment for this afternoon to take in my mom's other cat for a long overdue checkup/shots visit, so I'm off to do that in a little while...and bring Panther home.

We're back from the vet. Here are some pics:







PS I have no idea why the images are not displaying.

[MrSteve]

i thought i would show you our two beautiful family members ...



Luca (on the left) is wearing the red collar. Boycie (on the right) is wearing the black collar ...

[DoYouKubuntu]

i thought i would show you our two beautiful family members ...



Luca (on the left) is wearing the red collar. Boycie (on the right) is wearing the black collar ...

Oh, they're gorgeous! They look really sweet and cute.

I envy you. I wish I could have dogs.

Here are some pics of my now-departed kids, Freddie Mercury and his sister Queen:

First day:



In front of the sliding-glass door they broke one night body-slamming each other IN THE HOUSE (weight 182 and 170):



Freddie and the French doors I had installed to replace the sliding-glass door:



My favorite pic of Queenie:



The Fredster snoozing away on *HIS* chair: