Lily hasn’t been euthanized yet. She appeared to be a bit perkier this morning, so the Vet suggested I take her home and try to give her a few more good days. I brought her home about an hour ago. So far she seems uncomfortable and unhappy, but we’ll see.
I remember Miss Lucy continued to show some interest in life and wanted to be petted and cuddled up till a few hours before she died. But then, she didn’t have surgery to recover from. I put Lily on a big, soft pillow, and now she appears to be nodding off to sleep.
The Vet bill for her diagnosis and care is pretty steep, and donations received will be gratefully appreciated.
A big thank you to everyone who has contributed so far.
Try to enjoy your remaining time together with Lily as best you can.
Maha, I knew it was over for Mischa when she no longer wanted to be touched and would walk off from me to curl up alone behind a chair. We had already been through two two-week periods of near force feeding (smearing food on her nose so she’d lick it off) to keep her going, and she did get a little stronger each time, but it was clearly just a holding action. When the time comes, remember that you are extending mercy of a kind we cannot count on.
Sleep well, Lily. And the same to you, Maha.
You have both done the best you can – life is hard, but it has to end for all of us someday.
I really don’t want to think about my own moments of loss – just to say you are not alone.
peace and love –
I’m so sorry to hear about your cat, Lily. My cat Issa died rather unexpectedly January this year and I still miss him so very much (I have a wee remembrance shrine next to my bed for him). I hope her passing is as painless as possible for her–and for you too…
“To have may be taken from us, to have had, never.” ~Seneca
To Maha and Miss Lucy:
â€œWe who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary than our
own, live within a fragile circle;
easily and often breached.
Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we would still live no other way.
We cherish memory as the only
certain immortality, never fully
understanding the necessary plan.â€
My last cat, Skitty, had cancer. I knew she was dying slowly, and I wanted to do right by her, and it hurt, because who knew what was ‘right’? I didn’t.
One day, I tried to share my breakfast with her – and she tried to eat, and couldn’t, and that was when I realized I had to let her go. She had a need, and I could no longer fill it, so it was time to stop letting her suffer.
Would it have been better to let her go before that happened? I don’t know. But that did help me to realize that there *are* no good choices, there *are* no right answers. I made the right choice for me, out of love for her.
It’s a hard road, but you’re not alone, however lonely it feels. Comfort and healing thoughts sent to you both.