On Monday morning I lost my beloved cat of 10 years, Meatball. His "official" name was Hercules, but he was nicknamed Meatball and it just stuck. I think he liked it better anyway.

I'm in decent spirits as I type this sentence, but there are highs and lows, I've already had some good cries today, and no doubt I'll cry a lot as I type this.

On Friday night he stopped eating, which was rare for him. He loved to eat. He still seemed healthy enough, had energy, he just didn't eat his dinner. He had just eaten that morning, and even initiated play time with a toy I had left out that morning. But it progressed quickly, his breathing became rapid later in the night, I ended up taking him to the late vet. He was X-Rayed and by Saturday he was on medication (Lasix) for fluid around his lungs and heart. I was still optimistic and watched for signs of the medication working. Unfortunately I didn't see any and by late Sunday, he was not in good shape. He had only enough energy to walk from his water bowl (which he wasn't drinking from, only sitting by), to the balcony (where I had been spending as much time as he wanted with him). At that point I took him to the emergency clinic, they did blood tests and found kidney disease, high levels of a bunch of stuff I can't remember and the vet informed me he wouldn't live if he wasn't hospitalized. I hated to leave him there, but the vet informed me that with what they knew at this point, there was a chance he could still live with a good quality of life, and they predicted only about 48 hours of hospitalization would be required, so I left him there because he deserved that chance to live.

They kept him in an oxygenated cage to keep him comfortable on account of his trouble breathing. They informed me they would take more x-rays, because I didn't have the originals from the other vet.

Early Monday morning I got a call from the hospital telling me that due to the amount of the fluid they found, the prognosis would likely not be good, that most diagnoses from that are illnesses that would result in a poor quality of life, and I asked if there was even ONE illness that might be the exception and she said yes. (I don't even remember which ones, all I heard was that there was hope, even though she was honest that the odds weren't good and I should be prepared to make a decision if the results weren't good). She asked for permission to remove the fluid from the lungs both to make him more comfortable, and also so they could test the fluid so they could diagnose him. He deserved comfort, and he deserved a chance, so again I said yes.

She said they would call in approximately an hour with the results of that test. I asked if I could come visit him in the meantime, so I got up there and spent I'd say 40 minutes in a room with him, petting him, telling him I loved him, and holding oxygen up to his nose.

After that a staff member came in to bring him to a table nearby the room I was in, for the fluid extraction. I told him I loved him and waited in the room. While he was away from me I held on to hope, but vowed that if I did have to put him to sleep I would be by his side petting him and telling him I loved him.

It didn't get to that point. Next thing I knew it was chaos, a girl running into the room telling me he wasn't doing well and asking me if I wanted to go out there. I ran quickly to his side and was told he had stopped breathing, next we were being rushed to a different table where I was then told his heart had stopped and I was being asked if I wanted to have him resuscitated. I said no. I was to have signed a paper earlier with this decision, but somehow the signing got overlooked, but for compassionate reasons I had planned to say no anyway.

I learned that his heart had stopped because his fragile heart couldn't handle the sedative that they had to give just prior to the fluid extraction.

My heart sank that he was gone. Before he had left the room I knew that I MAY not have MUCH more time with him, but I never would have predicted that the 40 minutes I had just spent with him were to be the last. I remember afterwards asking the vet what the point of resuscitation would have been, and she said none, that I did the right thing. She said if his heart couldn't even handle the sedative, I would have just been bringing him back to suffering. I was hysterical. I remember collapsing to the floor. Fortunately a friend was there with me, as I can't even imagine going through that alone. I saw the final air escape his body, and that at least looked peaceful.

I'm confident that at no point was he actually in any pain and take some solace in that, but it was just traumatizing to see it all happen so suddenly and chaotically. I wasn't prepared for that. This isn't about me though. I trust that it wasn't chaotic for him as he wasn't breathing when I was called out there, and I'm holding on to the knowledge that his last moments weren't painful. I'm also holding on to the knowledge that things could have been worse. If I HADN'T gone to visit him before the procedure, I wouldn't have been by his side when he died. While things are hard, I am still so incredibly grateful that I had gone to visit him BEFORE he was given that sedative.


I'm lost and broken right now, but I wouldn't wish him back to a life of suffering. I hope he trusted me until the very end. If I had to choose between winning the lottery, or the knowledge that he knew until his last breath that I was doing the best I could for him, I would choose the latter.

Ugh, I don't know where my box of tissue is right now, and I'm using toilet paper.

There are still triggers. He was also diabetic and I still see his bottle of insulin in the fridge. It's almost brand new and good for another year so I just can't bring myself to throw it away, but I may move it out of sight for a while. Or maybe keep them visible as a reminder to myself of how well he was cared for. He was given that insulin twice a day for the last 4 years, so when those times of the day roll around, sometimes that's a trigger. I see his cans of diabetic suitable food. I still have lots of cans, as I had no idea he would be leaving so soon.


Since Monday there have been ups, downs, and also moments of complete absurdity:

I've had a lot of support from a lot of compassionate people, helping to lift my spirits, or even just distract me for a bit. And I've also had moments of good memories, and peace that he isn't suffering.

I've had moments of crying and crying and crying.

I've had someone who knows he just died say some really inappropriate things, then when that was explained to her, she admitted she knew that, but continued saying them anyway. Anyway, this isn't the place to focus on that, it's a place to honour Meatball.


I grew especially close to Meatball, he was a rescue, and at the adoption centre he crawled straight on to my lap when his cage door was opened. He was the most social cat, and loved to cuddle. He loved to play and was so smart, he knew his toys were kept in the drawers and closet, and would come running whenever he heard one of them open. He knew where his food was stored, even though it was in sealed cans, and not stored in the same room he ate in.

My other cat seems to be doing alright, but has been hiding under the couch quite a bit. I think she's staring to realize he isn't coming back and I know I need to be brave and strong to support her. She is still eating and I've been keeping a close eye on her.

I'll upload a picture tomorrow, I'm exhausted after typing all of this, but it felt good and if you read this to the end, thank you. I need sleep now, but will come back tomorrow and read your stories. Right now I will give you my thoughts and wish you comfort if you too are grieving the loss of a pet.

XO.

I just read your post... I am so very sorry for your loss. What a crazy week you had. You took incredible care of Meatball, may you find some peace in knowing that.

Me and my husband are grieving for our furry baby Scarlett. I understand the shock that you are going through, Scarlett passed suddenly on July 11th, she was only 7 years old. We are devastated and feel cheated out of so much time, we had many more memories to create together. Sadly that was not to be. The only thing that has helped us is to allow the grief to come - allow all the tears to flow. The loss of your beloved Meatball is incredibly painful so allow yourself the time to grieve. It is also important to reach out for support, which is what you've done by joining this site. This place has been incredibly helpful for me and my husband, there are so many caring people here. You will soon receive many comments filled with support and sympathy - we each understand what you are going through - we each grieve right along with you.

Keeping you in my thoughts and sending you healing energy.

Hi, herculeslove, please permit me to add my sincerest sympathies in the physical loss of our beloved Meatball. Losing a companion is never easy regardless of the circumstances or how long we are blessed with the privilege of their company. Losing a companion so suddenly intensifies the grief.

Herculeslove, please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is very normal deep grief. This grief journey is one of the most painful experiences you will know on this side of eternity. It is a journey that is filled with many different emotions that can overwhelm us all at one time - - it is a journey that is frequently referred to as a horror roller coaster ride. This grief journey is one of adjustment to the physical loss of your beloved Meatball, and it is a journey that can only be traveled one day at a time, sometimes one moment at a time, in your own way and in your own time, for you are now on a journey that is filled with all the "first withouts" and the memories that right now can be too painful that include "this time yesterday, last week, last month, last year" to endure.

But I assure you, Herculeslove, that you are not alone in your grief adjustment journey. Each of us here do understand what you are going through, and we are here for you for as long and as often as you need us.

It is obvious from what you share with us that you did everything in your power to give your beloved Meatball a happy and healthy earthly journey. Hopefully as you travel your grief journey you will find comfort in your heart that the love bond you and your beloved Meatball share is eternal - - it is not restricted to the physical laws of time and space. Your beloved Meatball's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey as he always has and always will - - for he is always and forever a part of your heart and memories - - he is always and forever a heartbeat close to you.

I know all too well from first hand experience that when our hearts are entrenched in deep grief there really are no adequate words in any language that can soothe the seering pain of sorrow. Still, I hope and pray that the words I share with you will be able to offer you some measure of comfort, support, encouragement, and hope as you travel your grief adjustment journey.

Herculeslove, thank you so very much for honoring us by sharing your beloved Meatball with us. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you and your precious kitty companion are doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you for you kind words Scarlett's Mom, your words mean so much to me. I'm so glad to have found this place. As much as I've been talking to my friends and family, I feel like this is a great place to let it all out.

There's is still so much going on in my head. The pain I feel for myself is hard, but it doesn't even compare to the heartache I feel for him. There are just so many things I feel bad about. In his last days he wasn't in pain, but I feel so bad that he was even sick, not able to eat, play, cuddle - all the things he loved doing most. I feel bad that he had to take medicine, which he clearly didn't enjoy having administered and that he may have thought I was mean for doing that. I told him over and over that all of this was just temporary, and that I was doing my best to make him feel better, I can only hope that he got that message.

I feel bad that even though I was in the room for him when his heart stopped, that I wasn't there for him when he took his last breath. (The vet had another doctor call me out as soon as he stopped breathing.) This means that the last person he saw was not me, and I worry that he thought I abandoned him in his dying moments, which I NEVER would have done. I had already been told his chances were not good. So I was prepared for any of three scenarios, all of which involved me being by his side:

1) He would either beat the odds and have a long, happy and healthy remainder of his life at home. In this case I even decided that when the time to let him go came, since there is a vet in my city that does in home visits, I would have it done at home with me by his side comforting him, petting him, and telling him I love him.

or

2) If his prognosis after the fluid removal wasn't good, but that he could still live a few days without suffering, I would have him put to sleep at home before it reached that point, with me by his side comforting him, petting him, and telling him I love him.

or

3) If I learned that bringing him home at all would cause him suffering, I was prepared to have him put to sleep there at the hospital with me by his side comforting him, petting him, and telling him I love him.

When the doctor called that morning, her message wasn't "get to the hospital now, he has less than an hour left", her message was "he'll live for at least a while longer but based on what we know, the chances are very high that his quality of life will start to deteriorate quickly and you'll have to make the best decision for him".

I know she had no way of knowing that his poor little heart would stop during the procedure, so I'm not angry at her, I'm just angry in general.


I do miss him, but can't wish him back for a life of suffering. It just seems like SO recently though that he was here, and healthy. I've been walking into rooms and for a brief moment thinking I've caught a glimpse of him. Each day when I come home I brace myself for the feeling of him not being here, even though when I'm in my home I feel closer to him than elsewhere. I do have my other cat Star here and we are helping each other get through this.

He was cremated, and the company that did it also made a plaster paw print. It somehow hurts and gives me comfort at the same time.

Hi Herculeslove -
Thank you for your response about Vienna. As you've said, the support from you and others on this site who completely understand what we're all going through is incredibly helpful. Right now, it just seems so important to do everything we can to honor our much loved littles ones and be able to "talk" about them and how much we loved them. While people in our lives may be supportive, I find I can't express myself well due to crying so hard when I try to talk about Vienna. So this is a safe place to express the things I can't verbally.

Anyway...I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. You obviously took exceptional care of Meatball. I saw so many parallels in your experience with him and Vienna. With her too, she got sick so suddenly and while there seemed to be hope initially (which made me totally oblivious to the fact that I might lose her...and therefore blindsided by the loss), the news just kept getting worse and worse. It felt like being beaten for 4 days in Vienna's case - every time I'd start to hope, I'd get punched in the gut with something new. So I know how chaotic and confusing that is. Like with Meatball, the end was chaotic and startling...except that I already knew the hope had run out and had to have her put to sleep.

I think you did a tremendous job of helping comfort Meatball and making sure you were present during his last bit of time. All I wanted to do since the first time I got news that Vienna wasn't doing well (but they still thought they could turn it around)' all I wanted to do was to go lay by her and comfort her. But I still thought she'd come home and I'd have another chance. By the time she got really bad, seeing her for more than a few minutes wasn't an option. So I admire how you stuck by him until the end. I was with Vienna when she passed...but I wish I'd been like you and been with her more when she was probably scared and hurting. So I understand your thoughts about worrying if he felt that way too. I just think you did everything you possibly could...but I know it never seems enough.

Today (right about this time) is one week since I had to let Vienna go. Like you, I have good times and bad...and still a lot of tears. But I dreamt about Vienna all night last night. In the dream, I was holding her really tight and she was happy. I expected to have a horrible day today. But it's been better. I'm sure my grieving isn't done...it never is when you love someone unconditionally because I know I'll always have moments of sadness that I can't have her with me. But I hope both of us keep moving forward toward a more consistent sense that Vienna and Meatball are at peace and know how much we loved them.

OK - sorry I talked so much about Vienna. But I saw so many parallels here, I just wanted to say that I know how you feel and what you went through. I wish, if our pets have to pass on, that it would always be peaceful and easy for them. Who knows what their experience is really like. But your love for Meatball was clearly abundant throughout his life.

Take care!
Tara

Hi Herculeslove,

I'm so sorry that you had to say goodbye to Meatball. You took such good care of him and the loss is devastating, I know. It's been just over five weeks since I said goodbye to my two kitties (Joe and Steve). I know what you mean about not knowing whether to keep their stuff in sight or not. I started to clear everything out of the house after they had gone, but then put some things back--cans of cat food, a dish, a bag of litter. Seeing emptiness in the places where those things were hurt more than seeing reminders of my boys. I didn't want to rid my house of things that were evidence that they had lived. Even their hair, which drove me crazy when they were here, was something I didn't want to rid my house of completely. It was so sad the first time I vacuumed and washed sheets. It felt like they were slipping away.

I can also relate to staying strong for your remaining cat. I have two dogs who each had their own favorite kitty. In the days after they died, Chloe would sit and shake with her teeth chattering and Vanessa would lay, licking the carpet, in the spot where Joe would sleep. It was heartbreaking, but as the weeks have passed, they seem to be adjusting (although as I write this Vanessa is laying in that same spot).

The triggers are really difficult to live with at first. I would "see" them and "hear" them. Thought I heard scratching around in a little box that was no longer there. Thought I heard claws on furniture in the next room. Thought I felt kitty feet at the end of the bed. Would think I saw one of them out of the corner of my eye. At first, those things were really unsettling and sad for me, but I finally decided to embrace them and be thankful that I could still feel their presence.

This tunnel of grief is such an awful thing to go through, so I know how you're feeling right now. Just know that as the weeks go by, there is comfort. It gets easier to breathe. That knot in your chest loosens a bit. The crying episodes don't completely take your breath away. The world stops moving in slow motion. Take it one day at a time. Don't hold back the tears. Embracing the grief is really the only way through it. There is a light at the end of that long, dark tunnel. We're all here finding our way toward it together.

CritzyJ

Thank you everyone for your compassion.

Tara, no worries about talking about Vienna, there are definitely similarities. Critzy, I'm really thinking of you and sorry for your loss too. I definitely understand not wanting to get rid of reminders of his life. I did throw away the medicine he took after he got sick because that was a reminder of the bad times. The insulin I've still got, because the diabetes didn't affect his quality of life at all, and he didn't even feel the insulin shots when he got them.

I retired his favourite toy though, and put it with his ashes.

Today his absence is especially overwhelming, but I even feel guilty about being sad, because at the end he wasn't doing well, and it would have been horrible for him to hold on just for me.

He came to me in a dream last night, he was just sitting on the arm of one of my recliners, I was petting him and he was happy.

It still absolutely tortures me that the last face he saw before he died was the doctor's and not mine, and what if he thinks I abandoned him in his final moments, but how could I have known. I was REALLY close though, like the room was steps away, maybe he sensed that I was there, plus I was having a conversation with my friend that was with me, so maybe he even heard my voice.

And although I could have had him put to sleep without having the fluid extracted, I would have had guilt about him dying uncomfortable with the fluid in his lungs. Plus there was also that chance that when they tested the fluid they would have found out he had something treatable and not quality of life reducing, and I would have felt like I didn't give him the chance he deserved.

I know the situation can't be changed, it still just feels good to get it all out though.

Hi Herculeslove -
I hope you're doing as well as can be under the circumstances. Even though the pain seems to be lessening for me (I was actually able to talk about Vienna today without starting to cry right away) I still have many of the same thoughts and experiences you've mentioned. It's so hard to think that our loved ones would've felt abandoned or alone during their last moments. I just have to tell myself that I gave Vienna a life full of love and positive experiences. I can tell you did the same for Meatball. There's just nothing good about the kind of illness both Meatball and Vienna experienced and this is one of the hardest parts - knowing we couldn't do anything even if we were there from beginning to end.

Some days are just harder than others for no apparent reason. And they're all filled with missing our babies. I think it's very comforting to have the kind of dream you did. I had a similar one about Vienna. Although our brains keep replaying all the bad stuff while we're awake, they must let us relax and feel the bulk of our time with our loved ones when were asleep. I also don't discount that its a message from them that they're ok and love us regardless of how things ended.

I think we know deep down that we did the best we could. But guilt is a way of making sense of something completely overwhelming. But I have to keep telling myself that it's wrong! Easier said than done however.

Anyway, I hope you continue to heal.

Your message was such good timing, I'm glad your pain is lessening. Mine is a little bit too, but I was still coming on here to let some more thoughts out after a rough day and it was nice to see your message. The end of the day is when it started to get tough. It started to storm here, and despite knowing that he's gone, for a moment I worried about him. It doesn't make sense but it's just the way I felt. Then I became incredibly sad because this is the first thunderstorm without him, and I just miss him so much.

I also spent a lot of time cooking in the kitchen today, and I was remembering how he always used to be in there when I was. If anyone was in the kitchen he would hang out hoping for a treat, looking up with those big cute eyes.

Monday was the one week mark and it was tough. In the morning I started remembering what was happening at that time one week ago and everything just seemed so fresh in my mind again.

My feelings are so conflicted. I miss him like crazy, but could never wish him back for a life of suffering.

I'm also nervous because my other cat is having surgery tomorrow. She had a tooth break right near the base, just before Meatball got sick and it needs to be extracted. The pulp is exposed and it's prone to infection - she's been on antibiotics until the surgery can be done, and of course for a bit after. I'm pretty sure it hurts too based on the way she started acting after it happened. I know this is low risk surgery, and I explained my concerns to the vet and they assured me of the low risk, and also that they will be testing her heart before hand to make sure it's healthy enough to handle the sedative, but my anxiety is high. I know I can't let my own fears prevent her from getting the help she needs though.

Hi, Herculeslove, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and please know your precious kitty does with her tooth extraction. I know from first hand experience how concerned you are having her undergo surgery - - even when it is classified as "low risk".

Although it has now been 3.5 years since my beloved beautiful baby girl Abbygayle joined the angels, I can feel and share your sorrow about your beloved Meatball. There is no "specified time" as to when we "should be" able to have more better days than sad ones. And even 20 years down the road you can be thinking of your beloved Meatball and feel a mist come to your eyes and a sadness well up in your heart. The good news is that you will not be consumed with the deep sorrow you are feeling now, but instead will be able to focus on the many treasured memories you and your beloved Meatball share.

I hope today is treating you kindly and that you will soon be able to pick up your precious little kitty and bring her home for a speedy recovery. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Your words are always so profound Moonbeam, thank you.

Star is back. She did well during the surgery, but is definitely still groggy and a little bit on edge. I was so happy to get the phone call saying it went smoothly, even though she needed to stay there for a few more hours (standard procedure) I was definitely on edge the whole time, couldn't stay still, and spent time getting housework done. If I thought it was hard coming home to a house with only one cat, it was especially hard with no cats here. How did I ever live without pets?

It took a lot to put my fears aside and let her go even for those few hours. I carried my phone with me all day and picked up within a millisecond of it ringing, and actually cried tears of relief when I heard she was okay. I know it was a low risk procedure, but anxiety is high right now.

I find as night falls my sadness over Meatball is worse. We know when we adopt an animal that chances are we'll outlive them, but I don't think there is anything that can prepare us for the void. I'm slowly filling the void with good memories, but I don't know how long it's going to take.

Hi Herculeslove -
I'm so glad to hear the surgery went well. That had to have been incredibly hard but glad you made it through as well.

I totally agree that evenings and nights are hardest. I had a friend tell me this morning how much better I seem then I was on Monday. I agreed with her. But by this afternoon...actually on my way home from work...that dread of being in a home without Vienna started hitting me. I've been crying off and on since I got here. I've got a bunch of lights on to try to make it feel not so oppressive. But I imagine we experience this because now is the time when we normally could focus on our little ones.

Your comment about how long it might take has been on my mind too. I want to get to a point where I don't experience everything based on whether Vienna was alive (anything before a few weeks ago) and the time since then. Everything is tainted by the loss right now.

I was thinking on my way home how will I ever be able to handle another loss like this. But I know I've handled many losses in the past. Even so, before Vienna's passing, I considered myself a very happy, content person. It's hard to believe I'll get back there. But I have to have faith that I will. It's just hard to think about doing so without the friends we loved so deeply.

Just wanted to say I'm thinking about you and hoping each day gets a little better. This is an awful club to be a part of. But I'm so thankful to have people who understand on this forum. Just wish we didn't have to connect over such a horrible experience.

Take care, Tara

A good development is that I find myself thinking more now about the happy times (which was most of his life), than the last bit where he was sick. I just feel like it's the most respectful way to remember him, while still acknowledging that he was sick at the end and that it would be unfair to wish him back.

Because it is SO easy to wish him back, when I'm remembering him healthy and happy. There are still moments when I'm expecting to see him, although they're becoming less frequent.

I was home more than usual this past week because it was my vacation time from work, so I found myself doing a lot more thinking. I'm still functioning, getting things done, but there's still always the awareness that he's not here.

I'm giving Star lots of a love as usual, she seems back to normal after her dental surgery and I imagine she feels so much relief in her mouth.

Has anyone else had really vivid dreams lately, whether about your pets or not? I've been noticing mine are.

I'm so sorry for your tragic loss of Meatball.
One can tell from your every post how much you love him and how much you cared for his well-being. Please don't torture yourself thinking he felt abandoned during his last moments, their hearts are so finely attuned to ours, I'm sure he felt your love and never doubted you.
Choosing to focus on the happy times and the love you've shared is, indeed, the best way to honor him. I still find it difficult to do that, but I hope in time I will.
Hugs, hope today is a good day, and thank you again for your kind reply to my post.

Hi, herculeslove, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and that your precious Star is doing so well now from her dental surgery. Yes, I can imagine, too, that she is feeling ever so much better not having to deal with a bad tooth - - which also helps her to eat better, too. Thank you so much for sharing with us how she's doing.

I'm so glad to share your news that you are beginning to find it easier to focus on your many treasured memories of your beloved Meatball. Please know that your beloved Meatball is sharing these memories with you, too, and is softly whispering in your heart "thank you for being my Forever Mom."

I hope today is treating you and your precious Star kindly, and that you both will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Meatball's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Ugh, tough night tonight. Yesterday was the two week mark, and I don't know how most people are after two weeks, but I'm still having moments of pure hell. Fewer moments than before, but when they happen they're as difficult as they've ever been.

I'm still so grateful for Star and that she's still here, but every cat has unique characteristics and I'm missing Meatball's just as I'm sure I'll miss Star's unique characteristics when that devastating time comes.

He was such an affectionate and social cat, so it really is a big void. I've noticed Star at times doing some of the things he used to do, which I'm wondering is some sort of sign. (She burrowed her forehead in my hand a bit, like he used to do, and that's something she never did before. She's also been kneading with her paws a lot, and he was a big kneader. This is the first of this behaviour from her too.) It could just be that she's lonely now and more affectionate though. Who knows.

I've been doing everything I can to get through this. Getting lots of exercise for endorphins, trying to get lots of sleep (although I've been waking up during the night), and I've also got some friends that have been incredible through all of this, but still nothing can erase how I'm feeling.

Aside from loving my own pets, I have a huge soft spot for animals in general and I find myself thinking about the poor ones that are waiting to be adopted, just like Meatball was before I found him. It seems so wrong that any animal is stuck in a cage, but at the moment is also seems wrong for me to bring one home. I don't feel like I'd be replacing Meatball, I know that's impossible. It's a compassion thing, feeling like I should rescue again, but I also think it's unfair to Star, she just lost her buddy, plus she just had her dental surgery, so it seems like bringing another cat home would just be too many big changes in such a short period of time. I'm sure I'll know when the time is right.



s

Hi Herculeslove -
I'm so sorry you're having a rough time. I know exactly how you feel however. It was 2 weeks since Vienna passed on Saturday and, although as you mentioned, some days are OK, some just feel unbearable. It's like you know you can't possibly go backwards...even though that's all you want...but it also doesn't feel possible to go forward without our loved ones. It's so crushing sometimes that it's hard to breathe.

It sounds like you're doing good things for yourself (i.e., exercise). I've tried to go back to my regular schedule of exercise but got injured this weekend doing a simple chore. So last night, when I would've been at kickboxing, was one of those where I felt like I was being smothered by the absence of Vienna. I guess it's normal though. Unfortunately. But you're obviously taking some good steps to take care of yourself.

I've also gone through that overwhelming desire to rush into getting another dog. I know it's too fast and it would feel like I wasn't giving Vienna enough respect in a way. And I think I'd probably be looking to the new dog to do the things I loved about Vienna, which wouldn't be fair either. But as you mentioned, I keep thinking that there are other dogs, like she was when I got her, who need someone to care for them. I also really want to be needed and have that companionship again. But, thanks to a lot of support from people on this forum as well as those in my life, I've kind of gotten past the desperation to rush into getting another dog. I want to take the time to come to the point where my memories of Vienna are all good. Then I know there'll be another dog for me. So i totally know how you feel. I think it's really good that you're voicing your thoughts and feelings about getting another cat. You'll know when it's right and that cat will be very lucky.

Hang in there. I can't say I'm any farther along in this process because my emotions change from minute to minute right now. But I think it's getting better. Tomorrow could be a different story...but I'm sure we'll get through this and have nothing but really happy memories of our friends. And those that come after them will get the same benefit of how much we care. Take care and I hope tomorrow is better for you!

Tara

Hi, herculeslove, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing, and for sharing your and your beloved Meatball's 2 week angel-versary. Please let me try to offer you some words of encouragement and comfort.

Clinical professionals recognize that the first year of enduring a grief adjustment journey is the hardest because it is filled with all the "first withouts" and major adjustments that immediately arise as well as the adjustments that reveal themselves through the process of time. And that is what this grief journey is - - a process of taking one day at a time, one moment at a time, as your grief adjustment journey needs. So please do not be expecting yourself to be emotionally strong until YOU find yourself feeling more consistently stronger.

And yes, it is very typical for our companions who remain with us to take on some of the behaviors of our beloved companion who is now with the angels - - it is one of the many ways our beloved companions let us know they are still with us by coaching their earthly housemates to do some of the things only they used to do.

It truly is a very personal decision as to when the time is "right" to embrace a new companion. I personally support you in your observation to not expect your precious Star to endure another MAJOR change - - particularly while she is still healing from her dental surgery - - in addition to adjusting to the absence of her beloved housemate. Only YOU know when it will be the "right time" for you and your precious Star to welcome another companion into your hearts and home. And please know that, when that time comes, we will be here to share your "New Beginning" with you.

I hope today is treating you and your precious Star kindly, and that you both will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Meatball's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thank you both for your kind words. Yes, I'm definitely bracing for various "firsts". One thing occurred to me about Christmas that I suspect will be especially tough. See, one year I came upon these ridiculously cute stockings shaped like fish, with a clear pocket on the front to put a picture of your cat in. I bought them of course, and it's going to be heartbreaking when I open the box of Christmas decorations. I think I'll put his picture in a special frame and leave it out permanently. Or maybe get a Christmas ornament with his picture on it. I'm sure this is the stuff non animal-lovers just don't get, but hey that's not me, and I don't want that to be me.

Hi Herculeslove,

Read your recent posts - so happy to hear Star's surgery went well and that she is home again with you. I know too well that when our furry ones pass away it is devastating. I've been on such a roller coaster of emotions. One day I'm good and the next I'm sobbing again. Nights are the worse because we would all huddle up as a family on the couch and watch TV before going to bed. We still haven't adjusted to the fact that we don't have our Scarlett's warm furry body to sleep with at night.

We only had one furry baby, our Scarlett, so when she passed our home felt so empty without her, having had numerous experiences with her spirit has helped a bit. One visit she came to me and my husband through my best friends doggie (you can read the specifics in my thread) but the short story is my best friend came over to the house with her dog (Cody) and during this visit Cody acted completely out of character. Cody went from sleeping one minute to jumping on my husbands lap, putting his paws on my husbands chest and licking him on his forehead. This is exactly what our Scarlett used to do to my husband - Cody never ever did this before or since and we've known him his whole life. Just wanted to share my experience - it helped us to think that Scarlett's sweet soul is still with us. I thought maybe Meatball is trying to do the same for you through Star.

Sending you healing thoughts.

Hi, herculeslove, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Yes, sadly, what is supposed to be the "most wonderful time of the year" can be the "most horrible time of the year" when our hearts are grieving with the physical loss of a beloved companion. It's another classic moment in time when we are forced to put on our "public faces" so that others will not be "turned off" by our sorrow.

It is a wonderful thing for you to think of finding a way to honor your beloved Meatball with an ornament and picture - - you CAN do both - - it doesn't have to be an "either / or" decision. But whatever you decide I know your beloved Meatball will be very happy sharing it with you.

I hope today is treating you and your precious Star kindly, and that you both will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Meatball's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Thanks moonbeam, it's always so nice and heartwarming to hear from you :-). Just checking in here since I haven't for a while. I've been having fewer rough days, but when the sadness hits, the intensity is still strong.

It was triggered this morning, when after I finished brushing Star and had to clean the fur out of the brush, I became aware that Meatball's fur was still in there. I know he was more than just fur, but it was still hard knowing that would be the last time I would ever clean his fur out of the brush, and that I'll never get to brush him again.

I still think back sometimes to his last days and feel so bad that he was even sick. One thing that makes me feel a little bit better is that on the morning he died at least he wasn't hungry and dehydrated anymore, because he had IV overnight. I remember before I brought him to the hospital he wanted water so badly but just couldn't drink it. He would just walk over to his water bowl and let his chin rest in it. NO animal should have to die hungry or dehydrated, and to top it off he was a cat that LOVED food so I'm taking a bit of comfort in the fact that he had at least been "fed".

Star seems to be doing well, and I'm just so grateful for her. She isn't hiding as much - for a while she would hardly come out from her hiding places, she'd only come out to eat, etc., or if she heard the door open and wanted to go out on the balcony. (I have any open spaces on my balcony blocked off with lattice to prevent accidents, and I don't leave her out there alone.)

Hi, herculeslove, thank you so much for sharing with us how you and your precious Star are doing. Yes, I can so relate your "new reality" thinking of your beloved Meatball and not being able to brush him. Each "new reality" is painful, particularly during the deep grief. We take comfort in every possible thing we can, and I am so glad you are finding comfort in knowing that your beloved Meatball transitioned home to the angels nourished and no longer thirsty. Your beloved Meatball knows that you did everything in your power to give him a happy and healthy earthly journey, and he is forever blessed to have you for his Forever Mom.

I am glad to know that your precious Star is doing well. I know this brings both comfort and joy to your heart - - and to your beloved Meatball.

I hope today is treating you and your precious Star kindly, and that you both will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Meatball's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

Hi Herculeslove,

The brushes with remnants of fur from Joe and Steve are still in the basket where I've always kept them. Still can't bear the thought of getting rid of their hair forever. I was folding up a blanket the other day and found some strands of black hair. The world stopped and I just had to pick it up and look at it. The idea of them being gone forever is so hard to really accept. I'm glad to hear Star is doing better. We all heal a little bit more with time.

I hope you'll have a restful evening.

CritzyJ

Thanks so much for your message. I've still been visiting this site at times to read through everyone's messages and support, but just couldn't bring myself to log in.

I still think about Meatball a lot. The apartment is a different place without him, and as much as I write about him and talk about him, I find it difficult to convey just how special he was. I have his favourite toy with me as I type this, and it's a bit comforting to remember him happy and playing. And he was just such a big gentle giant too, he never lashed out, he would just walk right into his cat carrier for vet visits, he would always come when called. You really did have to meet him just to understand how awesome he was.

I also have some news to share. I went to buy a brush for Star (A brush that attaches to the wall, so she could rub up against it, because she seemed REALLY lonely.) At the pet store there were a lot of pets from the Humane Society, and I cried for them because they were living in cages, but I didn't adopt one because it just seemed too impulsive and too soon.

A week later I was STILL thinking about the big black cat there that caught my heart. His description was "I'm a gentle soul", and with Star seeming lonely I decided it was the right time to save a life.

So, Snowball II (Simpsons fans will understand the name) has been home with us for a couple of weeks, and I think Star is starting to warm up to him. I'll post more about this soon, in the New Additions or whatever that section is called, but I wanted to share it here too as well.

Hi Herculeslove -
That's great news about Snowball II! I'm not a Simpsons fan but I appreciate a good pop culture name! My first Sheltie was named Keith Richards because he used to fall asleep with his head in his food.

I recently adopted two new Shelties over the course of a few weeks. First I got Regen and last week I got Raskal. As you experienced, it's a complicated decision to bring a new animal home. I really struggled with feeling like I was leaving Vienna behind somehow. But they've actually helped remind me of the joy Vienna brought me everyday of her life with me. I think they've helped me heal a lot. And it's so meaningful to feel like you've given a home to an animal that really needs one. I'm sure Snowball II is happy to be with you!

Take care and have fun with Snowball II!
Tara

Just felt like checking in here since I've been thinking about Meatball a lot lately. He's never forgotten, but most of the time that I spend consciously thinking about him is spent focusing on good memories and not dwelling on the sad things that are outside of my control. There is still intermittent grief which is normal I know, but just these past few weeks there have been a few triggers though.

Firstly I had almost a full box of unopened, unused needles from his insulin injections, that had been sitting in my cabinet for the past five months. A couple of weeks ago I donated them to a local animal rescue group and it was a trigger. I don't feel like I'm getting rid of traces of him, since I've kept a few mementos that I will always keep, but there was still an element of sadness to it.

Secondly, there were a couple of cans left of his special healthy food so I've been giving some of that food to Star and Snowball II. it seems silly to be sad, since Meatball loved food so much and it would seem like a travesty to have it go to waste, but still, there was that same element of sadness.

I have been really busy so haven't shared any photos of Snowball II yet, they're all on my phone so I don't think I can just upload them.

TaraG, congrats on your new adoptees, if you've posted about them I'm off to read about them now!

Hi, herculeslove, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please let me try to reassure you that what you are feeling is very normal grief when you share with us: "I don't feel like I'm getting rid of traces of him, since I've kept a few mementos that I will always keep, but there was still an element of sadness to it."

I can so relate to what you are experiencing. My beloved canine companion Oslo joined the angels in November 2009. I normally pay my property taxes in November and make a trip into town to the treasurer's office to pay them in person. At the same time I always purchased Oslo's County tag. In November 2010 I made the trip as usual fully understanding that I did not need to purchase a tag for Oslo. However, as I was leaving the treasurer's office I saw the "reminder" that tags needed to be purchased and for that brief moment I thought "Oh no, I forgot to bring Oslo's proof of Rabies vaccination - - I'll have to come back" - - and then I remembered that I didn't have to get him a tag - - and the walk back to the car was one of heavy heart. A YEAR had gone by since my beloved Oslo joined the angels - - but this was another one of those "first withouts" that was still a difficult "reality check."

This grief adjustment journey is not a straight line from "A" to "Z" but rather one filled with many ups and downs, twists and turns and turnarounds. When our deep grief begins to ease we think the worst part is over with - - yet days, weeks, months down the road something happens that "triggers" a new level of "reality" that our beloved companions are no longer physically with us - - no longer need the special care we so lovingly gave them - - and we can find ourselves feeling like we are back to day one of our grief journey.

The GOOD NEWS is that these moments of sorrow do become less intense so that we are able to re-direct our sorrow to remembering our treasured memories with warmth and joy in our hearts again.

I hope today is treating you and your precious Star and Snowball II kindly, and that each of you will have a very peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Meatball's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you both are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam