Cow died on Tuesday, January 6th.
We were to bring him in for a bandage change, but busband and I were worried bc he wasn't going to the bathroom and his abdomen was swollen and hard. He was throwing up, which is normal with fatty liver, but it smelled terrible and I knew something wasn't right. We were supposed to go in for 4:30pm, but I got us in at 11am instead. Cow had been really lethargic, but managed to pull himself up on my bed to sleep with me, and for a good cuddle before we got up.
We took him in and saw a new vet, the one they use to sub in for vacations. We brought in a towel that Cow had thrown up on for him to smell...yes, gross but it just wasn't right. He said it smelled necrotic - dead tissue. He felt Cow's abdomen and did an xray. He'd already had two, and the other vet had seen an area she didn't like, but conferred with the head vet who felt it was nothing to worry about.
Well, it was. The vet suspected lymphoma. He offered us some options, ultrasound or exploratory surgery, and sent us home to think about it. We spent the whole day wondering what to do, and after long conversations with the vet we decided that putting Cow down was the most humane option. My sister works there, and let me know that the consensus in the back room with the vets was that that was the way to go (they can't tell you that) bc he was really, really sick and the prognosis was not good.
We went in at 4:30 and had a good long cuddle with him. Busband couldn't stay in the room, so my sister and I held him and stroked him and the vet put him to sleep. It was very gentle. We sat with him for a bit after. They did a post mortem, and found a mass in his belly that had mashed up his intestines...even if we'd opted for surgery, they wouldn't have been able to fix it.
I'm absolutely sure that we made the right choice for him. He was ready to go, just not himself at all. He wouldn't even get up to use the litterbox unless we picked him up and put him in there (he'd only get up to cuddle on my bed). But I've never had to do this before, and it really hurts to have him gone. He was my little shadow around the house, always following me everywhere, always wanting to be on my lap. Even though I have the other two at home, I can feel his absence intensely. It really f*cking hurts.
What's interesting (to me) is how the other cats behaved. It's like they knew. When he got sick, they gradually started ignoring him when he was around - he was like a ghost in the house. I really think they know when another animal is dying.
I miss him terribly. I'm just glad we got to have that last bedtime cuddle. He was the best cuddler. The thing about pets is that all they want from you is petting and cuddle time...and food, of course. They ask so little and give so much, all without trying. They just are. He was a best buddy and a great teacher to me, and before he fell asleep I thanked him for everything he gave me. I hope he felt loved.
We were to bring him in for a bandage change, but busband and I were worried bc he wasn't going to the bathroom and his abdomen was swollen and hard. He was throwing up, which is normal with fatty liver, but it smelled terrible and I knew something wasn't right. We were supposed to go in for 4:30pm, but I got us in at 11am instead. Cow had been really lethargic, but managed to pull himself up on my bed to sleep with me, and for a good cuddle before we got up.
We took him in and saw a new vet, the one they use to sub in for vacations. We brought in a towel that Cow had thrown up on for him to smell...yes, gross but it just wasn't right. He said it smelled necrotic - dead tissue. He felt Cow's abdomen and did an xray. He'd already had two, and the other vet had seen an area she didn't like, but conferred with the head vet who felt it was nothing to worry about.
Well, it was. The vet suspected lymphoma. He offered us some options, ultrasound or exploratory surgery, and sent us home to think about it. We spent the whole day wondering what to do, and after long conversations with the vet we decided that putting Cow down was the most humane option. My sister works there, and let me know that the consensus in the back room with the vets was that that was the way to go (they can't tell you that) bc he was really, really sick and the prognosis was not good.
We went in at 4:30 and had a good long cuddle with him. Busband couldn't stay in the room, so my sister and I held him and stroked him and the vet put him to sleep. It was very gentle. We sat with him for a bit after. They did a post mortem, and found a mass in his belly that had mashed up his intestines...even if we'd opted for surgery, they wouldn't have been able to fix it.
I'm absolutely sure that we made the right choice for him. He was ready to go, just not himself at all. He wouldn't even get up to use the litterbox unless we picked him up and put him in there (he'd only get up to cuddle on my bed). But I've never had to do this before, and it really hurts to have him gone. He was my little shadow around the house, always following me everywhere, always wanting to be on my lap. Even though I have the other two at home, I can feel his absence intensely. It really f*cking hurts.
What's interesting (to me) is how the other cats behaved. It's like they knew. When he got sick, they gradually started ignoring him when he was around - he was like a ghost in the house. I really think they know when another animal is dying.
I miss him terribly. I'm just glad we got to have that last bedtime cuddle. He was the best cuddler. The thing about pets is that all they want from you is petting and cuddle time...and food, of course. They ask so little and give so much, all without trying. They just are. He was a best buddy and a great teacher to me, and before he fell asleep I thanked him for everything he gave me. I hope he felt loved.