Hello Everyone. I'm new here and I'm recovering from losing my cat Othello, who was only 4 years old. On Monday, July 16, I noticed that I hadn’t seen Othello out and about. I got nervous, thinking he might have slipped out a door behind someone or got stuck in a closet, so I searched for him. I found him under the bed, looking sluggish and not well. I didn’t know if he was sick or just tired, so I let him be. Later that night, after my husband Ben got home from work around midnight, Othello came out and sat with me on the loveseat, wanting to get pet. He didn’t stay very long, but I pet him and he purred and enjoyed it. I was happy; I thought he must be feeling okay. On Tuesday when I got home from work, he wasn’t out and about again, so I checked under the bed and saw him there. I was beginning to think something might be really wrong, so I got some cat treats out of the closet for him. He always loved his treats and would scarf them down without even tasting them, it seemed. I gave him one and he ate it slowly, so I placed another in front of him. He sniffed at it and licked it a little, but didn’t eat it. I called Ben and my mother and told them I was worried about him. Ben said to call a vet and get some advice and if he wasn’t feeling better he would take him in the next morning because he had the day off. The emergency animal hospital said to keep an eye on him and watch to see if began panting because that would be a bad sign. I checked on him periodically, but he never appeared to be panting. Around 1 a.m., I was ironing my clothes for the next day at work when I looked over at the water dish and saw Othello sitting there. At first I felt relief because I thought he must be feeling better to want to drink his water. Then I noticed that his breathing was very labored. I could see each breath making his abdomen shudder. I told Ben to look at him and we agreed that it wasn’t normal. We got out the cat carrier and decided to take him to the 24-hour animal hospital. When I picked him up to put him in the cat carrier, he didn’t fight me at all, which was very unusual for him. He usually cried, scratched at us, and contorted his little body all around to avoid being put in the carrier. He felt limp in my arms. I began to get very worried. Ben and I drove him to the animal hospital and prayed on the way that his illness would be minor and that we would be able to get him all fixed up.

At the animal hospital, they took him back right away and came back out before I even finished filling out his paperwork. They told us that Othello had fluid in his lungs and that they had drawn out a cup of the fluid, which made him much more comfortable, but that there was still a lot more left. They said that the only things that could cause this were all chronic illnesses with no cure that would require an overnight hospital stay for testing and further removal of the liquid, and that he would most likely require continued care for the rest of his life if even it turned out to be a manageable disease. The immediate cost for the overnight stay and testing would be almost $1000. Because Ben and I are in graduate school, we couldn’t afford this. I began crying while the vet was telling us that he might have a chronic illness. I couldn’t understand how this could happen; Othello was only 4 years old and always had such a thick, shiny coat of fur and always ate so heartily. He appeared to be the picture of health. I called my mother and told her what was going on, explaining that it looked like we were going to have to put him to sleep. I was sobbing so hard that she could barely understand me. When the vet came back, we had her explain everything again and then told her that with our income, the only option would be to put him to sleep. She said we were making the right decision for him, regardless of cost, because his quality of life would never be good with a chronic illness like he most likely had. We went back into a room and said goodbye to him.

Saying goodbye to Othello was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had to say goodbye to my dog, Gypsy, who we had to put to sleep due to cancer when I was nine, but the grief I felt at the prospect of saying goodbye to Othello was much more intense because I had a better grasp of what was going on than I did when I was nine. He seemed to be feeling much more comfortable because of the fluid they had drained from his chest, but he was nervous because he was in an unfamiliar place. The vet placed him on a table for us to say goodbye and we began to pet him and talk to him. He was too nervous to purr, but he seemed calmer. He wanted to jump off the table and explore, so we knew he was feeling better. We let him explore a little, then put him back on the table and took a few pictures with him. I am so grateful that Ben thought to take pictures because we don’t have a lot of pictures of him, and we don’t have any pictures of me holding him, other than these ones. I loved to hold him, even though he would squirm and usually jump out of my arms pretty quickly. I’m so glad we were able to capture a memory of me holding my little baby who I loved so much. When the vet came in, we asked for a few more minutes, and we told Othello that soon he wouldn’t be suffering anymore, and that he would be going to a better place, with a loving Father. We are looking forward to the day when we are reunited with him in heaven.

Since this happened two weeks ago I've been feeling horribly guilty about all the times I ignored Othello and about putting him to sleep. I keep wondering if maybe his illness wasn't that serious and if we should have just gone into debt in order to keep him with us. He was always so active and I miss all the signs of life he created around the house. I don't know how I'm ever going to get over this.

It is such a tragedy that you lost your beautiful Othello at such a young age. It sounds like he had heart disease, as that was what happened to my Furry. With intensive treatment she was able to live another 21 months after the first diagnosis, but a lot of cats die very soon after the problem is found, or just collapse & die, without having been ill up to then. All I can say is that at least you were able to be with him at the end, you didn't just find him dead, so he was surrounded by your love at the end. It just isn't fair that he was so young. I'm sure it was a very serious illness & you have to trust your vet on that, & it would have never been cured.
Try not to feel guilty about the times you ignored him, we all have done it - but there's no way of knowing what the future holds. Furry liked to be on her own to sleep, but I was always disturbing her to check her breathing hadn't deteriorated. I bet Othello was quite happy when you were busy doing other things - life is like that, & cats seek you out when they want a cuddle.
I'm so sorry, please take care.
Judith

My heart goes to you, you loved your Othello so much and you will be hurting
because this is how it is when we love so much. You may feel guilty but please know that there is no reason for you to feel this, nevertheless, most people guilt trip anyways, it may be a way to deal with the grief but know that you did what you had to do.
Othello was very lucky, remember that cats probably don't count the years, what is important to them is the quality of their living. You put your own suffering on the side and did what was right for Othello. My Felix who died of heart failure detested the pills we were forcing him to take 2x a day ; after the first weeks or so, whenever I tried to give him his pill he would fight back all he could and sometimes hide the pill in his mouth until he could spit it out in the hallway. He was already so weak and would use all his strength to pull away from me, it was pathetic, sometimes medecine is not for them, they are such natural creatures and don't understand all the things we do to them for their own good. Othello's life, though short, was really good, be proud and know that life will be good to you too. Othello will see to this. Really. Believe that though the rain is falling right now, there will be a day where all will be clear and bright as you carry Othello in your heart.

Thank you for your kind words. We don't have the necropsy results back yet (we ordered one because Othello had a sister, Desdemona, and we need to know if it was something infectious), but everyone we've talked to says it sounds like heart disease and that it was probably congenital because he was so young and was from farm cats that are most likely inbred. We adopted him from my husband's parent's farm where they have a bunch of strays that no one takes care of. The kittens usually die within a year, so we've been telling ourselves that we gave him a much longer and happier life than he would have had otherwise. I also talked to a vet tech who said that if they drew that much fluid from his lungs, he probably would have had permanent damage and would have continued to collect fluid there, requiring either repeated trips to the vet (which he would have hated) or requiring us to remove the fluid through a port or through his nostrils (which he also would have hated). I tried to give him pheromone treats one time for a car ride to settle him down (he absolutely hated his carrier and being in the car), and he wasn't having it. I know he would have fought me every inch of the way if I had to give him pills. I've been trying to comfort myself with the fact that we let him go peacefully instead of putting him through all that for our own selfish reasons, but at the same time I'm haunted by the thought that maybe he could have had a miraculous recovery had we tried harder. I just miss him so much. He was my first cat, and he was so special to me. He was always such a curious and mischievous cat and he was always knocking things over and making messes. When he was about two, my husband asked if we should give him to my mother, who lives in the country, and let him be an outdoor cat because he was destroying all our stuff. I sobbed and sobbed and said I didn't care how much he ruined because he was my little baby and I didn't ever want to lose him. I can't believe he's really gone, and I miss all the commotion he always used to cause.

I liked what Judith said:



It's so true.

And guilt is always one of the symptoms of grief-- (like wishing we had been perfect, which is humanly impossible). So please be gentle on yourselves. Othello wants that.

God bless!

Kathy

I'm so very sorry you lost your cat Othello. My heart is broken for you. It's obvious how much you love and miss him, and I am sure he felt your love. How fortunate he was to have such a wonderful, caring person to take care of him.
You came to the right place because I, and many others have recently experienced the loss of our much loved kitties. You will always find support and caring here.
April

I'm so sorry for the loss of your boy. You put me right there with mine when I was reading your story. you did the right thing. the loving and unselfish thing. Don't secind guess yourself.

you have a hard road ahead of you, make no mistake about that, but your pain will ease with time.

You will see your kitty again. I believe that with all of my heart.

Take care
John B