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Today, I unknowingly said good-bye to one of my fur babies, Jack. Jack was born on my porch in 2004, to a feral mama that I named Tippy-Tail -and she would let me actually approach and love on her, but she would not allow anyone else near her. I adopted Jack and his brother Tigger and have loved and cared for them for the last 9 years. The first time I saw then, they were just newborn and still wet.
Jack has had a few health problems over the years but most recently back in August of this year I took him in for an exam after I noticed that he was straining in the litter box and his stool was unusual as well as sometimes a bit bloody. Amazingly, his blood work came back as absolutely normal. Original diagnosis was that he was just constipated and after several days of treatment he was "moving" but not completely unblocked. Gave him Laxaire and plenty of fluids - not much improvement. Second exam resulted in pretty much the same diagnosis - could see stool in his x-rays and it appeared to move a bit, Cisapride was added 2x daily as well as continuing with the Laxaire. For about the last 2-3 weeks he has been taking the Cisapride and I truly was not noticing any appreciable improvement. He moved from box to box, still straining, with only producing about a dime-sized liquid stool for all that effort. I could tell he was losing weight, was very quiet, sleeping too much, but as always a lover boy who adored being held, stroked, sung to, and cuddled as much as possible. I think I knew in my heart that there was something dreadfully wrong, but I was afraid to make another call because I was afraid of what I was going to learn, and I was simply not ready to lose him. For about the last week, I have not slept well - lying awake worrying about him, and also his brother Tigger has recently had a hospitalization for crystals in his bladder - which is another story for another day. I finally gathered my nerve and made the call today, and took him back in. I knew it had to be something bad - I could feel it. My vet told me she would do another x-ray and see how things were looking and based on that - he may need surgery. She called after the x-ray and said there was definitely something there but could not determine what it was and she needed permission to operate - which I agreed to. The news was not good. About 45 minutes later she rang back and said that he was full of tumors - hundreds of little, tiny, tumors. Also, one of the lobes of his liver was cancerous and it appeared to have spread to his diaphragm as well as his intestinal tract. There was nothing that could be done to save my boy - so I made the decision to let him go. I could not watch him waste away and just wither up and die a slow death. He had lost almost a whole pound since his last visit there on August 31. I have cried most of today and all of this evening. My husband and I are those "crazy" cat people - who have 23, now 22 cats in our house. Each and every one is precious to us, and I am already missing Jack's sweet face and his velvet fur that I loved to stroke every night while we cuddled on the couch. The other cats didn't get to say good-bye, and neither did my husband. Little did I know when I awoke this morning that this would be "the day" - and right now I am alternately kicking my own butt for not noticing earlier and then feeling grateful that he will no longer be hurting and that he didn't leave this world without knowing that he was loved and cared for - because he was. A few of the other kids have been hovering around me tonight - I know they sense something is wrong. I'm grateful for them, and I love them too, and I know that no matter how many times I go through this - it is never easy and will never get easier. All I have now are memories and a few photos. I will miss his sweet face and gentle manner always. Good-bye my baby Jack....
So very, very sorry for your loss, and nothing I can say will make this any better. He's in a better place now waiting for you, and isn't hurting anymore.
It never gets easier to lose a beloved pet, no matter how many others you have... but don't make it worse by feeling guilty, as I'm sure there wasn't much you could have done at that point. I think you probably did the best you could, and made the right choice for him in the end. *hugs*
I'm so sorry about Jack. Poor baby -- it sounds like there would have been a grim prognosis even if you'd taken him to the vet earlier; please don't beat yourself up. He had a happy life and was well-loved and cared for. You gave him that.
It doesn't matter if you have 1 or 100 each one is special in their own way, I'm sorry for your loss and hope you find memories of Jack soon help relieve your pain. It is so kind of you and your husband to offer a good home to so many.
(((hugs))) So sorry to hear about Jack, my dear friend. Will be thinking especially about you & hubby and saying prayers during this time of adjusting to Jack's absence.
God, do I hate reading threads like this........not because you wrote it, but just because I know the pain you are going through right now. It is such an inevitable, and terrible, part of having a pet in your life.......you know that someday that time will come.
So sorry to hear about your loss.......wish I had some words to say to make it better, but I don't.
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