[CatwomanofV]

So today, I was looking at my 16 year old Electra. I know I'm not going to have her for too many more years. And that got me to thinking about all the ones I have lost over the years and how they left this world.

-Swatcha-I believe he was about 15. He was an adult cat when I got him. I had him for 9 years and I believe he was about 5 or 6 when I got him. I lived in a townhouse and just went upstairs to bed. I heard something downstairs and thought, "What did they get into now?" I looked down to see Swatcha in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. I ran down, picked him up, he growled a little. I brought him to the couch and he was gone by the time I got there. I think he had a heart attack.

-Bear-15. I think losing him was the hardest. He was one of those very special kitties but what was so hard was having to make THE decision. I hope I never have to make that decision again.

-Sheena-17. She basically was senile towards the end. She stopped grooming herself. I think she was also blind. She was just a pitiful sight. She reminded me of Grizzabella from Cats. She basically went into a corner and couldn't back up and that was it.

-Brandy-18. She had a lot of health issues. Kidney, thyroid, etc. We were bringing her to the vet every week for fluids. In fact, she had fluids on her last day. We probably didn't need to put her through that.

-Andy-15. He didn't have any health issues. He just stopped eating and knew his time had come. We sat with him waiting.


So, now that Electra's time is going to come, I wonder what would be the easiest. I know that it is NEVER easy but sometimes it is just so hard. I definitely don't want to go through what I had to do go through with Bear, Sheena, & Brandy. Swatcha was so quick. I know he wasn't in pain for long-a minute or two? But, I never really had a chance to say good-bye. I think Andy might had been the easiest. A chance to say good-bye but he really wasn't in any pain (that I know of).


What would you say would be the easiest way to lose your furbaby?



Cat

[evening sun]

There is no easy way. Over the years we have lost many pets, euthanasia, death at home, walk outs etc, they are all very hard.
We lost one cat, who had kidney disease, a day or two after a tooth operation, he passed away in his sleep, surrounded by his friends, our other cats, that was peaceful & at home. They all cuddled up to him, a circle of love.

Euthanasia at the vets is horrible. I don't think I will do that again, if it comes to it, I will see if I can get a house call.

We lost a cat last week, sudden death at home, that is hard too, because it was so unexpected. None of it is good.

[gentlearts]

All our cats died at home. Perhaps we should have helped them out of the world, but cats are so averse to being moved from their familiar surroundings that we could not bear to have their last moments on a stainless steel table at the vet's.

It is so hard to watch the life go out of a living thing, but at least they were in comfort and quiet and surrounded with people who loved them.

Our dogs? That's another thing. They were always hell bent on going out the hard way.

[Nefret]

I think death at home is the easiest. One of our old dogs died quietly while napping on the sofa after a normal day. My husband and I agreed that was much easier to accept than having to make The Decision.

When we've had to use the vet, we have the vet come out to the car in the parking lot.

I don't think that would work for a cat though.

[karen_in_nh_2012]

Cat, there is no easy way.

As soon as I started reading the OP I got teary thinking of my little Einstein, whom I lost last September 17th when he was only 8. It's been almost a year and I still can't bear it sometimes that he's not here.

But this is the price we pay for having these wonderful little creatures in our lives ... we are devastated when we lose them.

[Mightyqueen801]

I am sorry you are facing that again, Cat.

I lost my very first real pet cat (as opposed to strays I fed when I was a kid, all of whom eventually were hit by cars) in a house fire. He was 11 months old, and my daughter had gotten him as a kitten. I was devastated. I lost everything in the fire, but he was the only thing I cared about losing. That was 20 years ago.

In 2005, I unexpectedly ended up with FOUR cats. Two are now gone. Winkie was blind and had congenital kidney disease. She died at nine. She spent her last two months in a little bed in my closet. On Christmas Eve, the other three cats were on the couch, and my daughter was home from college. All of a sudden, out came Winkie from her closet. She hopped on the couch with other three and curled up. The whole family was together. The next day she stopped eating. On December 29, I heard her meowing. She was lying next to the litter box, which she had just used, and she could not stand. I picked her up and laid her on her little bed, she flipped from one side to another, then curled up as if she was going to sleep, took two deep breaths, and just died. I was relieved that I didn't have to take her in.

I lost her sister Mattie last October 31. She was only 12, and it was either ibd or lymphoma, the vet couldn't determine. She was still pretty lively up until the last two days, when she stopped eating. I cried every day for at least a month after she died and I still miss her terribly.

As a teenager, I fed a stray that lived in the woods behind my house. I called her Little Cat, and she got to the point where she let me pet her. Then one day I started walking to school, and she was dead in the road. Mattie looked exactly like Little Cat, and I felt as if she came back to me. She sat on me all the time, curled up against my shoulder like a baby, slept by my head, ran to meet me at the door when I came home from work. I just loved her and she loved me. Mattie and Winkie had a bad start in life, and they both just had sone strikes against them, healthwise.

I still have my other two. Foxy will be 13 next month. Blackjack is 12. Both are relatively healthy. Foxy is on thyroid meds. I know I only have them for a few more years if I am lucky.

When I took these cats in, I had a roommate who was my best friend, who was their primary caretaker at first. She has died, too. I like to tell myself Winkie and Mattie are with her on the other side.

[cheesenugget]

There is no easy way. I wish there is. I wish the guilt would never be on my mind, or wonder "what ifs" or missing my cat so terribly that it's almost been a year, I would still sacrifice everything to have him back whole and well.

The only thing we can do is to plan ahead, including the griefing process. Busy your thoughts by looking at things half full. I love my current cats very much, but I know they too will fade away from my life. So, I already made plans about downsizing, keeping maybe 1 or 2 pets the most, and focus on traveling with my husband since we don't have kids. My husband wants to at least have 1 dog in our lives, so we may have that after my current pets passes away. It will be very heartbreaking to lose them, and the void in our lives will be big, but we have to focus on the future.

[bassetluv]

I agree. There is no easy way. Each loss is on its own, a devastating thing to experience.

I lost one of my most precious cats very suddenly, presumed to be (no time for tests) a brain tumour. He was absolutely fine when I went to work in the morning; when I came home that evening, he was walking in slow circles, obviously distressed. I rushed him to the vet, where it was determined that it was either a deep inner ear infection, or it was a brain tumour. He was prescribed antibiotics; I took him home, and within hours he was going downhill. By the next morning he was bumping into walls and completely disoriented. So I rushed him back to the vet, and he was euthanized. But I will admit, this was the absolute worst experience of euthansia I'd been through with a pet...they gave him a sedative so he'd be relaxed and free of pain, which he was...and then they administered the drug to stop his heart. And the sudden look of fear and terror on his face as it hit will haunt me for the rest of my life. It was only a few seconds, but I will always live with guilt of knowing that Fritz died in agony. This is why I now demand that any of my pets be sedated fully - completely asleep - before they give that final drug.

I had a dog many years ago, a beagle mix named Misty. She died peacefully in her sleep; I discovered her the next morning curled up on the sofa, and for about ten minutes I thought she was simply sleeping. It was only once I turned on the vacuum cleaner and she didn't react that I suddenly realized something was very wrong. Yet her death, even though it was quiet and, I presume, relatively peaceful, was still extremely difficult to take. It was sudden and completely unexpected.

My last dog, Kaya....she was almost 16 and she had an inoperable tumour. She was receiving palliative care at home, was on pain meds, and it was only the evening before her death, and that morning, that she began displaying signs of pain. I took her to the emergency vet, decided to humanely end her suffering, and she went very very peacefully...she laid down, the vet gave her enough drugs to put her completely under, and then gave her the final drug. Kaya died at peace. But her death was devastating to me. I lost my soulmate, my best friend for the last 15 years, and even though one could not have wished for a more gentle passing, I was gutted. I found myself constantly thinking, "If only I could have her here, for just one more day...just one more day..." Now, six years later, I still miss her constantly. She was, by all definition, my "heart dog".

All that said, would I ever not want to have pets any more, to avoid the inevitable heartbreak? Absolutely not. I decided long ago that to avoid loving something (or someone) in order to avoid the pain that follows when we have to say goodbye is, in essence, avoiding some of the most important aspects of living. Pets reward us so deeply with their presence, whether it's 16 years or 16 days, that the love involved in having them (along with the wonderful lessons they bring to us) far outweigh the heartbreak that will ultimately follow.

[SandyCo]

I don't think there is an easy way. I have one cat left, and I can't even think about losing her right now. Losing Jasmine has devastated me, even though I made the decision after months of forethought. This just happened twelve hours ago, so of course, I'm in the fresh stages of grief and guilt. I've hardly slept, and I can't even look at Jasmine's side of my bed, where she used to sleep beside my head on her towel. I don't know if I can do this again; if Ariel starts having the same issues I may just be home bound giving her medicine and cleaning up kitty poop for however long she has left.

I didn't realize until afterwards that Jasmine was my only pet who was put to sleep. I had a tuxedo cat named Sneakers; I found him dead in our neighbor's yard when I was twelve years old, and we had had him since he was a kitten and I was only six years old. He either ate something bad or was poisoned. My brother left his calico cat behind when he moved out (I was 16), and three years later she just never came back (she was an outside cat).

I want to travel without worrying about cat care, etc., so I don't know if I'll ever get another cat once Ariel is gone. My main source of support is my daughter, and although she has been wonderful, she and her husband are expecting their first baby in January, and she's in graduate school to become a speech pathologist. I'm so glad she was there yesterday; she was strong at a time when I simply couldn't be.

[JrzDefector]

By far the worst is losing them too young. When I was 16 my 3-year-old hound dog, the first pup I had raised on my own, got hit by a car. She'd jumped the fence when no one was home and her hound dog nose just led her right out into the road. I was devastated. This year, my 5-year-old Catahoula died of a fast-moving cancer. It was beyond awful, and made doubly so by the fact that this was literally the dog I had waited for all my life. I've never been so wrapped up in an animal.

But my one hound dog got a tumor in the back of his throat at 10 or so that caused a sudden decline and could not be operated on. I was ok with that - he'd lived a fairly long life and he was suffering. My father, who had taken him to the vet, asked if I wanted to drive to the vet to say goodbye, but I was across town and told him to just go ahead with the euthanasia - he was suffering and I wasn't going to drag it out so I could get in one last cuddle.

My 16-year-old male border collie had a tumor on his spleen rupture. I took him right to the vet and had him put down. The vet and I were both crying, but I was fine the next day. At 16, he had lived a long and happy life - all was as it should have been. I wish he had less discomfort as he died, but it was pretty quick relative to other scenarios.

My nearly 17-year-old female border collie died a couple of years later well after her kidneys had started failing. She'd been doing ok, but not great - clearly failing - for a while, but one day she just couldn't walk. After a full day of hoping she'd come around, I took her out for a burger and ice cream - she ate the ice cream but left most of the burger. I knew she was at the end, and took her over to the ER vet. They put her on a little mattress, and she just kind of went into a coma even before the vet came in. Probably the "best" death for a dog - I cried a little at the time, but was mostly ok afterwards - super long life, super comfortable death and not a moment of distress in her last days. I think that was the best possible scenario.

My ornery 17-year-old cat was put down as soon as she stopped eating. She had a tumor diagnosed in her abdomen. I kept her eating for quite some time, but one day, she was just done. So we snuggled on the couch and watched netflix until the euthanasia vet could come to the house. She was purring when the needle went in. It was very peaceful. Another best possible scenario. I did not cry at all - she'd had a wonderful life and it was simply her time.

If an animal lives a long and happy life, I don't really get worked up about their death. It's just the natural course of things. Their time has come, and my job as their person is to keep them from pain and distress. At that point, their death is not a loss to them - just to me.

But the Catahoula was the worst - he suffered and nothing I could do would help. And I've never had a bond with an animal like that. It's been more than 3 months and I'm still reeling. I can't say his name without starting to cry. It's not like it was in the first few days after I lost him - it's a little better and will keep improving, I know. But the fact of his death sometimes sneaks up on me and sucker punches me, and I feel like I can't even breathe.