This is one of those posts I was never hoping to write. At least not for another 10+ years. No one wants to lose their pet. It’s heart-breaking to put down a pet when they're pushing 12 years old, or even 15, like a lot of cats are. But I had to put my cat down recently. And she was only a year old. This is going to be a heart-breaking post to write, but I want to do it because I would like to share my experience, and remember all the wonderful things about my cat. My sweet, spunky, and crazy cat D.W.
It was only a month or so ago that I wrote a blog post about having D.W. for a full year. It was a really fun post to write, plus I got to share the cutest before and after picture of her and myself (see above). From kitten to full grown cat, D.W. (in my humble opinion) was always beautiful. Pretty, short white fur, green eyes, and the pinkest nose and paw pads (aka toe beans). I got her when she was teeny-tiny, just a little white floof, but from the moment I saw her, she stole my heart.
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| The very first day I got my floof! That Weird Girl Life |
She grew quickly and so did her attitude. She was headstrong and inquisitive from the beginning, and all she wanted to do was either cuddle or play. She was the welcome cat in our home, always there to usher a visitor into the house (or try to escape out the front door and sometimes the backdoor, if the occasion arose) and introduce herself (whether the person liked it or not). She was mischievous and it seemed like a trait she would never grow out of.
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| The very start of D.W.'s bathroom fixation. That Weird Girl Life |
But a few weeks ago, D.W. started acting strangely. I know this sounds weird, but I could tell she wasn’t acting like herself. She was distancing herself from me, staying in my room less, and staying away from me. She planted herself in my parents room and wouldn’t budge off the floor. It hurt, but I thought maybe she was angry at me for something (you know how cats can be). But at one point I told my sister: “it’s like she doesn’t love me anymore.” D.W. was my cat, she always cuddled with me, my room was her room, and I was her person. I kept asking my family if they thought she was sick, and they just told me the weather was probably too hot for her. But after a day of just sitting there and not moving, even my parents had to conclude she was not herself. I made an appointment with the vet the next day and took her in.
The night before the vet appointment, I remember picking D.W. up off my parent’s floor and taking her into my room and into my bed with me. I didn’t know what the news would be from the vet, and I just wanted to spend time with her. I was scared. I was hoping it was just a cold, but she looked so...sad. And defeated. I cuddled with her as best as I could and tried to just enjoy her presence, her breathing, her furry warm body against mine, but after a while she jumped down and left my room. I tried not to think of it as a bad sign, but I couldn't help but think that it was.
At the vet’s the next day, the news was not good. The vet tech immediately took a look at D.W. and said, “this is one sick cat.” Her gums, ears, and skin were extremely pale. They weighed her and she had lost two pounds in a month, which is a lot for a cat. The vet tech took her temperature rectally, which D.W. always hated, but this time she didn’t even flinch. I knew something was really, really wrong then. The vet came in and said she was extremely dehydrated and they needed to run an IV and a blood panel. When the blood panel finally came back, the results were bad: D.W. was deathly anemic. Her levels should have been at a 30. They were at a 4. The vet told us we needed to get her to an animal hospital as soon as possible, or think about putting her down, because without a blood transfusion, she wouldn’t survive.
I, thankfully, had my dad accompany me that day, so he drove to the animal hospital while I tried to talk to D.W. and not freak out. At the vet’s office, the vet had asked if she had eaten anything toxic. A plant, a food, chemicals. I couldn’t think of a plant in our house that was toxic, a random food she may have eaten, and my family is so careful with cleaning products, we won’t even let the cats walk on the floor after we’ve mopped, just in case. I was wracking my brain, thinking I had let something bad happen to my cat, when we got to the animal hospital.
Everyone at the animal hospital was so nice, and it was set up little an actual hospital, just on a much smaller scale. I filled out some forms, and they took D.W. back to start an IV. I was trying not to cry (okay, I was sobbing), calling my mom and sister, updating them, and having bad flashbacks to when my own dad was in the hospital last year, when my whole family thought we were going to lose him. All I kept thinking was “this is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening.”
Eventually, they called myself and my dad into an exam room. A very nice vet met us back there and introduced herself. She explained a little bit about D.W.’s anemia and how severe it was. We talked about how D.W. essentially wasn’t making enough blood to survive, and this could mean a variety of things. They could do a blood panel to test for certain types of cancer, even a bone marrow biopsy. She suggested a blood transfusion, but explained that cat blood transfusions are complicated. You have to match blood types, etc. and it would help, but they needed to find the underlying issue. Was it something toxic she ingested? Was it cancer? Or something else entirely? She explained that they could do all the testing here, but for her to stay over night to be tested would range from $2,500 to $3,000. Just for that first night. I was shocked. I immediately started crying. I didn’t want the vet to think I didn’t want to treat D.W., but I explained that I really didn’t have the money, and if I had the money, of course I would spend it all on her to make her feel better. But I didn’t want to torture her with tests. You can’t explain to your pet that you’re having people hurt them to save their life. The vet was so sweet and started tearing up herself, when she said that the really interesting thing about being in veterinary medicine was that humane euthanasia is a viable option. She said it in a very understanding way, perhaps knowing the way things were starting to go.
I told her I loved my cat so much and that I had only had her for a year. That I didn’t even realize something was wrong until a few days ago. The vet reassured me that cats are excellent at hiding how they are feeling when they’re sick, so sometimes, it may be too late to do anything, and that I shouldn’t blame myself. She then gave my dad and myself some time to think about our options and left the room. I immediately started crying again, while my dad muttered something about “this was not how I was imagining things to go today…” Same, Dad. Same.
My dad and I talked and we eventually agreed that we couldn’t put her through all these invasive tests. It wasn’t fair to D.W., and I would probably lose all of my savings in the process. And the thing the vet and my dad pointed out was, even if we did find out what was wrong with D.W., what if we just ended up putting her to sleep after all of this testing? She was already suffering so much, and I didn’t want her to suffer even more. I made the hardest decision ever to put her to sleep.
They let me hold her for as long as I wanted before. She was wrapped in a blanket, wet with saline from the IV, and smelled like rubbing alcohol. Her eyes were glassy as she looked out around her, but when I would say her name, her tail would wag. She still remembered me. I let my dad hold her, and as I was handing her to him, she pooped. Oh, that girl. Mischievous until the end. I held her again after that, just rocking her back and forth and thanking her for being my cat. She looked so miserable, it was like she was a shadow of the cat she was. But she was still mine and I didn’t want to let her go. But I knew I had to.
The vet finally came back in and asked if we were ready. I nodded and she let me hold D.W. in her blanket. D.W. already had an IV port in her paw, so the vet was able to administer the syringes into the port directly. The first syringe was a numbing agent, and the second was to stop her heartbeat. I got to say my goodbyes and I love you’s, as D.W. slipped away. Once they took her body away and the vet said she was sorry and left the room, I started crying hysterically. My dad awkwardly patted me on the back as only a father can do, as I cried my heart out. My little girl was gone. She was only a year old and now I didn’t have her anymore. She was just...gone.
I left with a little clay ornament of her paw prints, a remembrance I knew I wanted once I had decided on letting her go. I kept looking at it on the ride home, tracing her paw indentations, and remembering when she was alive and with me, just a few minutes ago.
I don’t remember much of that day, except that I kept crying and my chest hurt. And I kept crying for the next few days. The tears eventually went away, but that ache in my chest wouldn’t go away. Sometimes it's still there and it’s been weeks.
I keep looking for her, especially in those first few days. I’d spot something white out of the corner of my eye, thinking it was D.W., but of course it wasn’t. Sleeping was awful without her. She would usually join me for early morning cuddles and to wake up alone was gut-wrenching. I still sleep with her favorite blanket, the one she used to knead and nurse on, just as a reminder of her.
The days are now getting easier, but I still miss her so much. She wasn’t supposed to be gone this quickly. When I first got her, she was supposed to be my ride or die cat. Just like my cat Harriet before her, who I had had since she was a kitten, and had to put her down after 14 years together last year. Putting two cats down that I had loved so much in two years is so painful. I hope no one has to go through that like I did.
The pain is easing each day and that awful day that I just recounted is being been slowly replaced by the happy memories I had with her. I know I only had her for a year, but that lively white cat changed my life. She was bright, sweet, and silly. Everyone in my family loved her and was charmed by her.
So to end this long, sad post on a happier note, here are some happy memories I have of D.W.:
The night before the vet appointment, I remember picking D.W. up off my parent’s floor and taking her into my room and into my bed with me. I didn’t know what the news would be from the vet, and I just wanted to spend time with her. I was scared. I was hoping it was just a cold, but she looked so...sad. And defeated. I cuddled with her as best as I could and tried to just enjoy her presence, her breathing, her furry warm body against mine, but after a while she jumped down and left my room. I tried not to think of it as a bad sign, but I couldn't help but think that it was.
At the vet’s the next day, the news was not good. The vet tech immediately took a look at D.W. and said, “this is one sick cat.” Her gums, ears, and skin were extremely pale. They weighed her and she had lost two pounds in a month, which is a lot for a cat. The vet tech took her temperature rectally, which D.W. always hated, but this time she didn’t even flinch. I knew something was really, really wrong then. The vet came in and said she was extremely dehydrated and they needed to run an IV and a blood panel. When the blood panel finally came back, the results were bad: D.W. was deathly anemic. Her levels should have been at a 30. They were at a 4. The vet told us we needed to get her to an animal hospital as soon as possible, or think about putting her down, because without a blood transfusion, she wouldn’t survive.
I, thankfully, had my dad accompany me that day, so he drove to the animal hospital while I tried to talk to D.W. and not freak out. At the vet’s office, the vet had asked if she had eaten anything toxic. A plant, a food, chemicals. I couldn’t think of a plant in our house that was toxic, a random food she may have eaten, and my family is so careful with cleaning products, we won’t even let the cats walk on the floor after we’ve mopped, just in case. I was wracking my brain, thinking I had let something bad happen to my cat, when we got to the animal hospital.
Everyone at the animal hospital was so nice, and it was set up little an actual hospital, just on a much smaller scale. I filled out some forms, and they took D.W. back to start an IV. I was trying not to cry (okay, I was sobbing), calling my mom and sister, updating them, and having bad flashbacks to when my own dad was in the hospital last year, when my whole family thought we were going to lose him. All I kept thinking was “this is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening.”
Eventually, they called myself and my dad into an exam room. A very nice vet met us back there and introduced herself. She explained a little bit about D.W.’s anemia and how severe it was. We talked about how D.W. essentially wasn’t making enough blood to survive, and this could mean a variety of things. They could do a blood panel to test for certain types of cancer, even a bone marrow biopsy. She suggested a blood transfusion, but explained that cat blood transfusions are complicated. You have to match blood types, etc. and it would help, but they needed to find the underlying issue. Was it something toxic she ingested? Was it cancer? Or something else entirely? She explained that they could do all the testing here, but for her to stay over night to be tested would range from $2,500 to $3,000. Just for that first night. I was shocked. I immediately started crying. I didn’t want the vet to think I didn’t want to treat D.W., but I explained that I really didn’t have the money, and if I had the money, of course I would spend it all on her to make her feel better. But I didn’t want to torture her with tests. You can’t explain to your pet that you’re having people hurt them to save their life. The vet was so sweet and started tearing up herself, when she said that the really interesting thing about being in veterinary medicine was that humane euthanasia is a viable option. She said it in a very understanding way, perhaps knowing the way things were starting to go.
I told her I loved my cat so much and that I had only had her for a year. That I didn’t even realize something was wrong until a few days ago. The vet reassured me that cats are excellent at hiding how they are feeling when they’re sick, so sometimes, it may be too late to do anything, and that I shouldn’t blame myself. She then gave my dad and myself some time to think about our options and left the room. I immediately started crying again, while my dad muttered something about “this was not how I was imagining things to go today…” Same, Dad. Same.
My dad and I talked and we eventually agreed that we couldn’t put her through all these invasive tests. It wasn’t fair to D.W., and I would probably lose all of my savings in the process. And the thing the vet and my dad pointed out was, even if we did find out what was wrong with D.W., what if we just ended up putting her to sleep after all of this testing? She was already suffering so much, and I didn’t want her to suffer even more. I made the hardest decision ever to put her to sleep.
They let me hold her for as long as I wanted before. She was wrapped in a blanket, wet with saline from the IV, and smelled like rubbing alcohol. Her eyes were glassy as she looked out around her, but when I would say her name, her tail would wag. She still remembered me. I let my dad hold her, and as I was handing her to him, she pooped. Oh, that girl. Mischievous until the end. I held her again after that, just rocking her back and forth and thanking her for being my cat. She looked so miserable, it was like she was a shadow of the cat she was. But she was still mine and I didn’t want to let her go. But I knew I had to.
The vet finally came back in and asked if we were ready. I nodded and she let me hold D.W. in her blanket. D.W. already had an IV port in her paw, so the vet was able to administer the syringes into the port directly. The first syringe was a numbing agent, and the second was to stop her heartbeat. I got to say my goodbyes and I love you’s, as D.W. slipped away. Once they took her body away and the vet said she was sorry and left the room, I started crying hysterically. My dad awkwardly patted me on the back as only a father can do, as I cried my heart out. My little girl was gone. She was only a year old and now I didn’t have her anymore. She was just...gone.
I left with a little clay ornament of her paw prints, a remembrance I knew I wanted once I had decided on letting her go. I kept looking at it on the ride home, tracing her paw indentations, and remembering when she was alive and with me, just a few minutes ago.
I don’t remember much of that day, except that I kept crying and my chest hurt. And I kept crying for the next few days. The tears eventually went away, but that ache in my chest wouldn’t go away. Sometimes it's still there and it’s been weeks.
I keep looking for her, especially in those first few days. I’d spot something white out of the corner of my eye, thinking it was D.W., but of course it wasn’t. Sleeping was awful without her. She would usually join me for early morning cuddles and to wake up alone was gut-wrenching. I still sleep with her favorite blanket, the one she used to knead and nurse on, just as a reminder of her.
The days are now getting easier, but I still miss her so much. She wasn’t supposed to be gone this quickly. When I first got her, she was supposed to be my ride or die cat. Just like my cat Harriet before her, who I had had since she was a kitten, and had to put her down after 14 years together last year. Putting two cats down that I had loved so much in two years is so painful. I hope no one has to go through that like I did.
The pain is easing each day and that awful day that I just recounted is being been slowly replaced by the happy memories I had with her. I know I only had her for a year, but that lively white cat changed my life. She was bright, sweet, and silly. Everyone in my family loved her and was charmed by her.
So to end this long, sad post on a happier note, here are some happy memories I have of D.W.:
- She loved it when my sister would offer her cream cheese. Every time my sister had a bagel with cream cheese, D.W. would be over by her in a second, her pink nose twitching, readying for a bit of cream cheese. It was the sweetest thing ever. And then D.W. would, of course, try to go back for seconds.
- Her purr was so loud! She would only really purr when she was kneading, but it was still the most comforting sound in the world and would warm my heart when I heard it.
- She loved to visit people in the bathroom. Whether it was me showering or just using the bathroom, she would wait outside the bathroom door and meow until I let her in. It was like she just wanted to have some company and how dare I shut her out of the room I was in?
- One of D.W.’s favorite spots was behind the TV in the TV cupboard. She would jump up and then hide behind the TV, taking catnaps in the evening while we watched a movie. I’m not saying I closed the cupboard doors on her a few times (accidentally, of course), but I’m also not saying I haven’t (I remembered very quickly and let her out, don’t worry!).
- She was always trying to escape! Either through the front door, or the back door, but the countless times I had raced around the backyard with my heart in my throat, would always scare me to death! After I had captured her, I would march her inside and hug and berate her for terrifying me like that. Before she was starting to feel sick, I was thinking about getting her a leash and harness, just to see if she’d enjoy the great outdoors in a more civilized manner. Plus, she would have looked super cute in a harness.
- She was such a faithful and loyal snuggler. She would sit with me on the couch when I was reading and at night, she’d always say goodnight and cuddle with me, before sleeping somewhere else for most of the night. But she would always, always cuddle with me in the mornings while I slept. Sometimes at my feet, usually at my side, and occasionally right by my head. We have some very sweet pictures of her resting with me while I sleep. I look awful and she looks adorable.
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| That belly though! That Weird Girl Life |
- D.W. loved everyone. From my family, my friends, to friends of the family, and random people doing work on the house, she was friendly and playful and wanted to make everyone feel at home. Whether it was showing off by playing or scratching the furniture, or snuggling up right next to them, she was the perfect little furry welcoming committee anyone could have asked for.
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| D.W. with her best friend Violet. That Weird Girl Life |
- Everyone who has met her has a D.W. story. She was goofy, silly, and lovely and always made a (usually) great impression on everyone she met. She was just perfect that way. And to me, perfect in every way.
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| The very last picture I ever took of D.W. That Weird Girl Life |
Thank you for letting me ramble about D.W. and thank you if you read this entire post. I just wanted to have a piece of her on my blog, since this is my blog about my life, and she was such a big part of it. I wish you all could have met her, but I hope you feel like you knew her a little after reading this post and my previous one about her. If you have a pet, hug them close and remember how lucky you are to have them in your life and for them to have you in their life. Do it for me, and for D.W.
Stay Weird.
Stay Weird.
I honestly had to skip a few paragraphs from crying. I'm so sorry Emily. It's awful when they're hurting but even worse when it's out of nowhere. Before we put our family dog down he was rolling around in snow. Two days later we put him down for cancer.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're doing alright. I still cry about our dog and it's been four years so I totally understand if you need someone to talk to ❤
I'm so sorry about your pup, Meagan! I'm really sorry you had to go through that. It's such an awful thing to lose a pet. Especially so suddenly. I'm sorry we both had to go through that. At least we had some special animals in our lives <3
DeleteThank you so much for your kind words and for reading this post. I honestly didn't think anyone would read it. And thank you. I may get in touch with you if I need to talk. Thank you so much for offering. You're the sweetest! <3
This made me cry. I'm still tearing as I type this. Sorry for your loss, Emily. It must be extra difficult because it's so sudden and she's so young. I'm glad D.W. is no longer suffering. And yes, we would all love to meet sweet and beautiful D.W. Most importantly, I hope you won't blame yourself in anyway. I think you did the right thing.
ReplyDeleteMany virtual hugs to you from a fellow feline lover.
I'm sorry to make you cry, Julie! That wasn't my intention! But thank you for your sweet, kind words. I'm glad she's not in pain anymore either. That's a thought that keeps me going. I think we would have loved D.W. Pretty much everyone was her new best friend ;) Thank you so much for saying that. I can't help but blame myself, just for not knowing, or not doing more, but I think deep down I made the right decision.
DeleteThank you!! And thank you for reading and your kind, kind words. Virtual hugs back to you, fellow feline lover! <3
Oh I am so sorry about your precious kitty. I've never had cats but if I were to have one it would be a white one like DW. She was adorable. It must be heart-wrenching to put her down when she was that young. I had to put my dog down in November: it was just a normal day and my husband took him out on a walk, and next thing during dinner, he wouldn't come to us and he peed on his bed. So we took him to the emergency vet, and they found that he had cancer and fluid in his stomach. They said that he could do surgery but it would cost $5,000-$10,000 and even then there wasn't a guarantee that he would make it. It was one of the hardest things we had to do. And my sister put her dog down in June for cancer too. Just rest in the comfort that you gave DW the best life you could and that you'll see her again.
ReplyDeleteHannah the Mad Dog
Hi Hannah, thank you so much for your kind words about D.W. And thank you for saying she was adorable! I know I'm biased, but I always thought she was a pretty cat, haha. I'm so sorry about your pup. And your sister's dog as well. That's the hardest decision to make when you love them so much and would do anything for them if you had the money. Thank you so much for saying that. And I hope you you know that about your sweet dog too and you'll seem him again one day. He sounds like a lovely dog and he was so lucky to have you as part of his family and vice versa.
DeleteThank you so much for reading and commenting, especially on such a sad post like this. It really means a lot to me. <3
I am so, so sorry for your loss. She looks like an absolutely beautiful cat, and this post was heartbreaking to read, I even cried a little at the end. I can't imagine how you must have felt/how you are feeling, but I feel that you made a good decision, one that would have caused her the least amount of pain possible. Sending lots of sympathy <3 I'm glad you have good memories to look back on x
ReplyDeleteHi Naomi. Thank you so much for your lovely comment. And thank you for even reading this post, I know it was a sad one and not that much fun to read. I'm sorry I made you cry a little! I feel like I've cried enough for everyone in the world, haha, I didn't mean for anyone else to cry too. Thank you for saying that. It was such a hard decision to make, but I know she's in a better place now. And I do have such happy memories and lots of cute pictures to remember her by. <3
DeleteI am so so sorry for your loss, it's absolutely heartbreaking what ever age they are having to go through all that. I'm so glad you got to have such special moments with D.W, ones you will cherish forever and you have the photos to remember her at her best. This was so brave and raw of you to write, I can only imagine how you must have felt putting this in black and white, it's so emotional but I think it's an important read. Sending all my love x
ReplyDeleteJordanne || thelifeofaglasgowgirl.co.uk
Thank you so much for your kind and encouraging words, Jordanne. I still miss her a lot, but I'm so happy with the time I had with her. It was heartbreaking to write, but in a way I felt like I had to put it all out there. So in a way it was good to write and it helped me process things. Thank you! I'm so grateful for your lovely comment <3 It means the world to me.
DeleteOh bless you Emily. This made me cry. I'm so sorry for what you had to go through with D.W., but I'm glad you have so many special memories with her. The bit about her pooping when you passed her to your dad did make me smile. Sending lots of love your way. xxx
ReplyDeleteKim || chimmyville.co.uk
Thank you so much for your lovely comment, Kim. I'm sorry it made you cry! That was definitely not my intention! I felt like I cried enough for the whole world while writing this post. Except for the pooping part, I laughed at that as well. And when it happened, haha. But seriously, thank you for reading this. I know it's not the most fun blog to read (actually, no fun at all to read!), so thank you for actually reading it AND commenting such a sweet comment. It means the world to me <3
DeleteI am so, so sorry for your loss. This really pulled at my heart strings and brought back all the emotions of losing my dog, Ben, 4 years ago. I'm so please that you had special memories that you can hold onto forever. Never, ever let them go.
ReplyDeleteSending you lots of love xx
Thank you so much, Nyxie. Your comment meant so much to me, honestly. I'm so sorry about your dog, Ben. Losing a pet is so hard, no matter how long you've had them. I feel like with any pet you just have a special connection with them. I love my memories and photos I have of D.W. and she'll always have a special place in my heart. I hope your memories with Ben are still fresh in your mind and still bring you comfort. Thank you again for your lovely and kind words. They really warmed my heart <3
DeleteThank you so so so much for your kind words, Bexa! Aw, I didn't mean for you to tear up! I apologize. Though I do have to admit that I cried while writing this post, haha. D.W. really was a wonderful cat and I'm glad that came across in my writing :) I still miss her so much, but I'm so happy that I have these memories and also all of the memories from other people who have met her. Plus, she took a cute picture ;) Thank you again for reading and for your wonderful comment. It means a lot to me <3 <3 <3
ReplyDelete