I am new to this forum, and have read some of the beautiful postings of all our friends who have passed on without us. I have lost one of my beloved friends, Homer, on December 24th. He was the happiest 11 year old manx cat, despite all the pain he was in. He was dealing with a fusing spine and horrible arthritis for a couple of years, and we found out he was diabetic in his last week. He lost the use of his back legs, and when I took him to a specialist, we found that he had cancer along his spine, and a tumor bleeding into it which is why he had use of his back end. I would have done anything to save him, but it was selfish of me to want to put him through so much more pain so that I could have more time with him. He was starting to have difficulty breathing, and barely made it through the myelogram procedure. My doctor was kind enough to come to my house, and let him pass in the comfort of his own home, as he spent most of his last week in clinics. I have come to this forum, as my family feels as if i should be over the loss of Homer already, but I'm not - not by far. I don't know how you get over the loss of a soul mate after only 3 weeks. My other cat, Baby, is the only one who is getting me through our loss - She was with Homer for most of his 11 years, and is still looking for him, and that breaks my heart every time. I want to post a poem, I didn't write it, or know who did, but it was used in a memorial for my grandfather, and I hope it might help someone else who is dealing with the loss of a beloved friend.

The angels gathered near your bed,
So very close to you,
For they knew the pain and suffering,
That you were going through.
We thought about so many things,
As we held tightly to your hand.
Oh, how we wished that you were strong and happy once again.
But your eyes were looking homeward,
To that place beyond the sky.
Where Jesus held his outstretched arms,
It was time to say goodbye.
We struggled with our selfish thoughts,
For we wanted you to stay,
So we could walk and talk again,
Like we did just yesterday.
But Jesus knew the answer,
And we know He loved you so;
So we gave you the greatest gift – The gift of letting go.
Now our hearts will carry memories of the love you gave to us.
Until we meet again in Heaven,
Where the best is yet to be.

My sister was shocked to learn that i was still in pain three years later, she said 'i dont like to think of my baby sister suffering'.

They dont know how to help us so they want us to 'get over it' then they dont have to feel so helpless.

Give yourself time and be patient with your family.

Its an awful thing to live with agreeing to end the life of the one you love but youll get there, in a few months youll be laughing at some little antic or other that Homer got up to and then youll realise that you are on the mend after all.

Take care

Love Sue

What a beautiful peom. Thank you for sharing. Prayers to you and your family during this difficult time. I believe all of our furry children are playing together in a wonderful place in heaven until our arrival and then our souls will be together again.

Its so funny how you miss the little 'annoying' habits. Like chewing on a toy in the middle of the night to wake you to play, or jumping on you when the alarm goes off just so you can spend that extra few minutes in bed, or licking the plastic shopping bags as soon as you walk throught the door. I was lucky enough to have a professional photographer take a picture of me & Homer about 3 weeks before he passed, as we were doing an article in the paper for holistic treatments of pain in animals. They're not printing the story now, but I finally got the picture last night. I am so lucky he was my cat!

Its been a month since I said goodbye to my dear friend Homer. I feel like writing about it is a bit thereputic, even though it hurts so bad to relive it. It seems that time has gone so quicky, but yet the days are so long without him. Baby has been doing better though, she's eating great, and the doctor said she was in great health and doesn't seem like she'll be 11 next month. I was so worried for her, and she still looks for Homer, but she seems to know he's not coming around the corner. I can't stop feeling that I could have done more to save him. I just feel like I acted too quickly on the most important decision for him - It felt so surreal and like someone else was controling my actions. I knew when Homer was diagnosed 2 years ago with severe spondylosis, that one way or another, that his spine would more than likely be what limit our time together. He was doing so good with his monthly trips for cranial sacral therepy, it wasn't curing him, but seemed to relieve some of his pain. He was diagnosed on a Monday Dec 19th with diabetes and was unable to walk by the 21st, and unable to control his bladder by the 23rd. He had feeling in his back end, but no control. He started having laboured breathing by the 22nd too. I rushed him, on the advice of my vet, to a Calgary specialist for a myelogram procedure to figure out what was happening, assuming it would only be a spur that was fusing his spine, compacting the spinal column a bit. When he went for the procedure the doctor said the anesthesiologist was having trouble keeping Homer breathing, and they weren't sure why. He said he seen something moved into the spine, but the radiologist had already went home, and was going to rush the films to them. He also said that he did a spinal tap that looked abnormal, possibly lymphoma, but wouldn't know until morning. I drove home that night, without him, knowing that my cat Baby would be my only comfort. The doctor called in the morning and said that it was a tumor that was crushing his spine and that he had cancer along his spine, and that his recommendation would be euthanasia. I said I would come get him. I drove the 2 hours to get him, and the nurses gave Homer something for pain for the 2 hour drive home, but said they had to give him oxygen as he stopped breathing, and told me to stimulate him on the way home, as he might stop breathing on the way home. I got home at 2 and my doctor was coming over at 5, I couldn't even get him out of the kennel. I took the lid off and held him for that 3 hours saying goodbye. Baby didn't say goodbye, as he didn't smell like Homer after spending the good part of the week in clinics & insulin injections. Why didn't I ask if they could remove the tumor? Why did I just accept the worst outcome? Why after doing everything I could for him for the past 2 years, did I just stop fighting after a doctor recommends euthanasia? Why didn't I wait and think, it all happened so fast. My days since December 24th are filled with so many 'what if's'. Then I think, he couldn't breath, he couldn't walk, he was in so much pain. I want to call the doctor to ask if there is anything more I could have done, but what if he says yes, and whats the point, there's nothing I can do now. I miss him so deeply and just wish I could have had more time to think about what I was doing.