Hello everyone,
It's so nice to have a place to share with other people who understand how painful it is to lose a pet.
16 years ago I went on a date to a pet shelter to get a kitten. I had it all planned, he would be calico. When we got there, no kittens seemed right and we almost went home. Then they brought in several new kittens and I saw a lttle fellow who was all black get put in the cage. When I held him he trembled with fear at first, but once he stopped and looked at me, I knew he was the one.
I named him Solas; Irish for bright light. He was my first pet. And I know now that I was spoiled, because there are not many cats like him. He came when I called, gave kisses when asked, even played tag with me in his younger days. He used to put his paws on my face and pull me in to kiss me. He was so sweet. He was a New York cat and had a New York attitude. If you got him annoyed he would shoot you a look as if to say, "Humans, will they ever learn!".
Solas was "a cat haters" cat. He won over so many people with his loud purring and nudging.
We have been together through so many life changes. I got him when I was just 20. He's seen me grow up, get married and become a mother.
Last month something just didn't seem right about him. He was lazier than usual. Pretty hard for a cat! We called the vet and he came out to the house. It was nice to find someone who would, because Solas HATED the car and would let out the most awful meows for the entire journey. The doctor said he was retaining fluid and we had to do some tests and drain him. He said the fluid was pushing up against his lungs and heart. The next day I brought him to the office (yeowling!) and we had the procedure done. I thought with a little rest, he would be OK.
Five days later the nurse called with the bad news that all signs pointed to Feline Infectious Peritonitis, a fatal illness. I poured over the Internet, looking for information. Alas, when I entered "F.I.P. and cure" in my search engine EVERY entry said "no known cure". What was terrible was that they also said that death would be rapid and painful, as my darling's body would fill up with fluid and drown him from within.
It was so terrible to know what was in store. We had weeks or days left. I held him in my arms and asked him what I should do. I said that I didn't know if I could stand putting him to sleep, but I didn't want him to suffer. He looked up at me and for the first time in months he kissed me right on the mouth. I took that as my sign that it was ok to let him go. I spent the next days lavishing him with attention and cuddles.
He began to seek out solitude from the bustle of our noisy kid and pet filled home. He stopped eating. He couldn't use his back legs well and had a far away look about him. The doctor was coming out to do an echo-cardiogram on Thursday, but by Wednesday he wouldn't even drink water. I stayed up with him all night and cooed and cried over him. I knew I had to say good-bye.
It was so hard waiting for the doctor to come. Even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I still felt guilty. And the pain of knowing I was losing him was so much to bear.
He went quickly and the doctor was very compassionate. I didn't realise how traumatic it would be to watch him slip away. I just wept and held him, saying "My poor boy" over and over.
I have a lot of friends who have been very compassionate. But I'm still a honking snotty mess of tears and tissues. I'm still in my pajamas all day long and I sleep a lot. I don't know when I'm going to start feeling better. The house seems empty without him. He had such a presence about him and his going has left a huge void. I keep thinking that I see him out of the corner of my eye. Does that happen to anyone else?
Anyway, I'm sorry this is so long, but he was a great cat and he deserved a great tribute. I will always love him and I'm thankful for the love he shared with me.
Ariel