3 days ago, or was it 4….. I granted my furry soul mate the end to the suffering I could see and feel she needed. Tatem was my 13-year-old cat who had struggled through out her life with health and behavioral issues. I am convinced the universe gave her to me because I understood her issues and in fact mirrored many of them. Over the past weeks leading us to Christmas we were struggling though another round of severe and chronic sinusitis (the only humor to be found in the situation was that I was recovering from my 6th sinus surgery in 4 years because I have chronic sinusitis). My poor baby had snot pouring out her little nose and just before Christmas she quit eating completely. Not being able to smell a thing there was no tempting her with ham, or tuna, or even the salsa she so loved.

The vet on call said to have her put down but because I needed time and didn’t care for him I waited until our vet came back from the holidays. When my husband and I took Tatem in our vet though my baby would recover fine if we had a feeding tube put into the side of her neck. It sounded like a simple enough procedure so we signed off and agreed to come back in a few hours to pick her up. As we drove away I had what could best be described as a panic attack. It was wrong, all wrong to do the feeding tube. I knew it was. But husband reminded me the vet thought she would be fine and how wonderful it would be if she did make a full recovery. I tried to relax and ignored my intuition.

When we returned to pick her up she was hunched up funny in her box making it was hard to get a good look at her. As sweet as my baby was with me at home she had a whole Dr Jekall/Mr Hyde routine she pulled at the vets. She was the center of my heart but wow, she truly became demon spawn she was so scared at the vets. In any case there was no way to get a good look at her while we were still in “that place”.

Once home I got her settled I noticed she looked a little funny but thought she was just hunched up because she was upset. Then we attempted her first feeding though the tube. It was a disaster. Food was shooting out all over the place…. Disgusting and scary. I knew something must be wrong but I decided to let her settle a little more.
The next time I saw her she looked like a pillow with legs.

In a panic I called our vet only to discover they don’t have anyone on call after hours so we had to go to the local (and very expensive) VCA Vet hospital. One look at her and she was rushed into the back for x-rays. An hour (or 50 years) later they came in to show us x-rays that showed several inches of air under her skin, in her stomach, and chest cavity. Even now thinking about those images makes it hard to breathe for me. My baby was suffering so.

After checking the feeding tube they decided that was not the source of the air and they came to tell us they though her trachea had been ripped when she had been intubated for the surgery. They told us they wanted to keep her hospitalized for several days to see if it healed and if not they wanted to perform an exploratory surgery to find the rip and close it. It would have cost thousands.

And then I looked into her eyes as she lay trembling on that horrible stainless steel table. Those eyes that had shown me so much love were pleading with me to end her suffering. As my heart broke I signed the paperwork to have her put to sleep. She purred a little between gasps for air as we said goodbye. I know it was the right choice, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting her though all the extra pain with the feeding tube debacle. She deserved so much better than that.

And I can’t help but think it would have been easier to not have had the hope that she would make it only to have it end so badly.

To compound matters further when I spoke to our vet the following day she told me she never intubated Tatem. What ever the source of the air was could not have been the tear the emergency vey was so sure of. Now they are investigating what caused this bizarre reaction and I can’t help but wonder if they caught the cause to begin with if she could have been saved. And I wonder if we will ever know what caused it.

Now my husband and I are rattling around in a little house that feels unbearably empty. No one to greet me as I come down the stairs in the morning. No one to talk to me as I make my first cup of coffee. No one rushing into the kitchen every time we use a can opener. No one to ask if they want any 9 Lives just to hear their uncontainable excitement and cries of “Now! Now!” No one to greet me at the door when I come home.

I see her in every shadow. My eyes automatically look in all her nap spots. My head knows she is gone. My heart feels like it is being ripped open all over again with each and every realization that she is gone. Yesterday I cleaned the house and packed up the last of her toys that were found in strange places. Every time I found another toy batted under a bookshelf or dropped in a boot I cried like it was the end of the world.

I think of her and it hurts so muchI can’t breathe . I’ve experienced loss in my life but never of someone so incredibly precious to me. How do you keep walking when all you want to do is crawl away from the pain? And how do you answer “why did so have to go now?” I wasn’t ready. I need her. And not only do I not know how to deal with her loss, I feel I am lost.

I'm so sorry about Tatem...what a terrible story....I'm wondering if she could of had pnemonia (you mentioned snotty nose) and her lungs collapsed? Just an educated guess from someone who has had 4 pnemothorax's (collapsed lungs). Poor little girl. You reall did everything you could. She is at the bridge now, happy, healthy and playing.



I so know that feeling, believe me...when I tried to explain to someone how much pain I was in, I used those words...it hurts so bad, I can't breathe...I really felt like I was drowning for a couple weeks....and 7 weeks later, I sometimes am still so overcome with grief, I can't breathe. We are all here for you and so understand your pain.

Hugs to you and your fur angel Tatem,
Brutus' Mom

Hi Tatem's Mama,

I am so sorry for the loss of your baby Tatem. Please dont blame yourself for trying to save her, you did not know that there where other things going on with her.
She has a wonderful mommy, you showed how much you loved her doing that final act of love not wanting her to suffer. You said it very well when you describe the pain. I wish that none of us here ever had to feel this pain and suffering that we are doing. Remeber we have to crawl before we walk so take as much time as you need. We are all here if you need us. What you are feeling is normal if it wasnt then we would not be normal. Just try to take one day at a time that is what we are all doing.

Hugs to you and your hubbyand your angel Tatem
Anna

What a sad, sad story, Tatem's mom! I am so sorry that you had to go through all that--but you definitely made the right final decision for your precious fur-child.

And I too know that feeling of being unable to breathe. I lost my Labrador, Poppers, just three weeks ago, and today I learned that my life-partner, Ladywolf, has untreatable cancer. She's still in good health in every other way, except for these TUMORS, so I still have her by my side, but when she leaves me, I don't expect to be able to get out of bed in the morning--any morning, ever again. That's how strong our human-wolf bond is!

But I'll have to get out of bed to at least make occasional posts here, to give and receive the wonderful support that this Forum offers. Stay with us for awhile--this is one heck of a nice bunch of people, with a lot of wisdom to share!!

So sorry for your loss of your beloved Tatem--

Margi and Ladywolf

What a heart wrenching story, I feel so sorry for your loss of Tatem. You tried to give her a bit more life so that you could be together just that bit longer, please don't feel guilty for that, If you had not given her the chance, you would have felt guilty because you had her put to sleep without trying. We all suffer from the guilts, every single one of us, no matter what we do it seems. We get so attached to our fur angles and I know how you are feeling right now. I was devastated beyond description when I lost my darling boy Ulriich, I totally lost it, but with the help of this forum, I gradually regained my sanity, well most of it anyway. People here will always understand just how bad you feel and support you because we have all been through the hell of losing our soul mates.
I have lost people very close to me too and always grieved normally and coped, but when my cat was killed, I just lost it completely. Of course everyone thought I was a nut case. I know why we miss them so much, it's because they are constantly with us. I have just been painting a window and zelda the cat followed me up to the shed to get the things to do the job, then back to the window where she jumped up on the tressle with me and hopped in and our of the window while I was working. They are with us in everything we do and when they are suddenly not here, we feel it sooo badly. Hugs and love to you xx

madi xx

Thank you all for your support. Its good to hear from other that feel as much pain as I am feeling now.

Today we picked up her ashes. It feels like I lost her all over again and any ground I gained just disappeared. The vet that put her down included a note that even though Tatem was feisty she could see how much she loved me and how strong our bond was. It was a lovely note and it does gives me some comfort but a box of kleenex later and I'm still no closer to being able to stop crying or draw a deep breath.

Margi- I'm so sorry about Ladywolf.... my heart goes out to you.

I'm so sorry to hear about Tatem -- we put our westie down on Dec 7th and I felt like I was reading my story when I read yours about not being able to breathe or crying when you found the toys scattered around. I wish I could take this horrible pain away from you and all of us that are experiencing it. It's not fair that we have to lose our pets too soon.
I'm praying that you will find some peace tonight
Sharon

Almost a month....some days a deep breath comes easier but today, this afternoon as I sit in a quiet house grief and loneliness has pulled me under like a tidal wave. My heart jumped in my chest as I stepped into the kitchen and the sun's shadow moved across the floor and my heart and eyes screamed it was her before my brain could speak up. Some days are just hard.

Tatem's Mama--

Grief is like that, isn't it? Catching us unawares, at odd times, in odd circumstances. Just when we think that we're starting to recover, we get blindsided again, and that's seems to just be the way it is.

I'm sorry for the tidal wave that overtook you today. Sometimes I look at Ladywolf in all her splendor, with her tumors, and I think that I can't possibly be strong enough to get through this whole process. (She isn't sick at all yet, just has growing tumors, so it's way too soon to "do anything" about it.) My heart just breaks as I watch her frisking around on a good day--I can't believe that I won't have her always, but after all, she IS about 14, which is a pretty good long life so far. I feel younger than 14 when I think about losing her--I feel like a young child facing a huge loss...

You were such a good mommy to Tatem--be proud of yourself for the final decisions you made. Keep taking deep breaths, and keep the faith, whatever your faith is!!!

Hugs and XXOO--

Margi and Lady

I found a quote and it hits home for me although I still can't tell you how it makes me feel...

"Our animals shepherd us through certain eras of our lives. When we are ready to turn the corner and make it on our own.... they let us go."

I wish I was as wise as Tatem and knew I could make it without her..... It strikes a chord. But a sad one I think. I miss her.

What a beautiful quote, Tamem'smom--it means more to me than you can possibly know. I myself am ready to think about relocating, and I want to do so without the issue of having to find a "dog-friendly" place to live--but I feel guilty even saying that out loud! However, I AM about to enter into a new era, and my life will be much simplified without animal care as an issue...

Ladywolf has literally kept me on the planet at times when I was spinning out into psychosis. I'm much more grounded now--most of the time--and I don't really NEED her as much--though on some level, I need her more than I ever did.

Anyway, I get the gist of the quote and it makes sense. It's kind of like how other friends come into out lives at pivotal times, and then kind of fade out when our mutual needs change...

It IS a sad thought, but probably very true...

Hugs--Margi and Ladywolf

It does seem they "keep us on the path" or at the very least steer us back when we step off course. Don't feel terrible about thinking sometimes about life without Ladywolf. Having so recently felt the pain of losing Poppers I can't imagine adjusting your mind to losing Ladywolf. And worst to just have that there hanging over your head. Of course you think about the relief that will come when she is gone and you don't have to bend your life around her needs.

Tatem was behaviorally challenged. When she was with me she was the sweetest, most loving cat.... and she was from the first second we met, but to others she was standoffish to downright nasty to my mother in law (a bit funny to me personally, but not to the husband, and truth be told My mother in law does like dogs, and is not a bad person). But when it came to the vet she did a full on Dr Jekell posessed demon shift. IT got so bad we were fired from 2 vets before we finally found a cats only hospital with 1 vet who could cope. Every time we went (and it was so stressful to go- The worry beforehand, having to leave the exam room because I couldn't bear to listen to her howls and hissing, then being punished for hours or days when we got home) sigh, every time I thought my life would be easier without such challenging behavior. Boarding places wouldn't take her, it took 2 years if prozac and careful behavior modification to get her to a place where she could live with my husband when we first got married. So many time that just as I knew she had been given to me because I could deal with the behavior and love her through it all, I though about the relief that would be when she was gone.

I'm still waiting to feel that relief most of the time. Since it doesn't affect where I live, its impact is quieter. The pain and loneliness have swallowed most of it up though there are moments that I realize I couldn't be doing something if she were here. And I do feel a tiny bit of relief.

I guess what I'm saying Margi is I'm so glad it resonated with you. I just wish life wasn't quite so hard sometimes.

Ah, Tatem'sMom, I wondered what kind of behavioral problems Tatem had, and now you've told us. Sounds like she was a mix of angel-cat and she-devil. I've known a few like that...both animal and human!

I'm sorry you're still in so much pain over her loss, but she was WORTH grieving over for a long time. Someday, some of the stories may seem funny to you and others, but not yet.

I feel like Lady's cancer is spurring me on to investigating a new place to live, probably back in small-town California again (I hate Arizona.) I probably won't be leaving here with Lady, as this is a perfect place for her to spend her last days. Her care has not become a burden yet--it just involves a lot of expensive cooking (She LOVES baked sweet potatoes mixed in with her brown rice and meat!) But who knows what the future holds. Poor little Poppers went down so fast that I was in total shock--but she was in a lot of pain her last night, and it was a relief to hear her cries soften and fade out.

Yes, I do resonate very strongly to that quotation, and thank you again for sharing it. Peace be with you.

Hugs--Margi and Ladywolf

Dear Tatem's Mom
I'm so sorry that you had to loose your baby in this way. I think you did everything you could with the information you had at the time and you obviously loved your baby as did she you with all your heart. I hope this knowledge can comfort you. Know to that I feel what you must be feeling and understand. You are in my thoughts.
Barb

Sideswiped again. This afternoon's mail brought a sympathy card from our regular vet's office. They sent it to the wrong address the first time so it came just over a month late. All the tech's that Tatem terrorized and the vet who tried to save her but likely made the mistake that killed her (not the one at the emergency clinic who put her down) had signed it. They were so thoughtful and told me how they all knew I did everything I could and they could see how much I loved her and she me.... But getting it now felt like the breath was knocked out of me all over again.

Then, just now, I went to open a can of soup and realized I haven't open a can since she passed. Like most cats she loved tuna dearly and was convinced any can opened must be tuna.... You could count in seconds how long it took her to get to the kitchen from the first pop of the can opener. And I always did count. Tonight I started to count, forgetting for a moment. Now I can't stop crying.

I'm so sorry it hit you so hard today. I know exactly what you mean, sometimes it just sneaks up and knocks the wind out of you. But, it will pass - slowly, those moments won't come as often, and in time, you will be comforted by the little memories you have. I hope this moment passes soon for you.

Dear Tatem's Mama--

I read your story and my heart aches for you and Tatem. I know what you are going through. I had my dog Patsy put to sleep July 4, '08 and it devastated me (I put LOTS of posts here on L-S). Time does soften the pain and intensity of the event(s) but you never do forget...

God bless you.

hope2heal

Thank you everyone. It does help to be able to have a place to release those overwheleming feeling of grief when they swamp you, just as it helps to be reminded it will pass. When you feel so sad its like the light goes off on all other parts of your life and you are left in a tiny circle that you can't see beyond. Even when you hurt so much is it good to know there are people who get it, will listen, will understand and let you get through it the best way you can at your own pace. And when the lights go out, you all remind me that they will come on again. So Thank you.