It's so hard to know when. I made the same mistake with my last cat, Tabitha - looking back we should have let her go weeks earlier. Her last few days were miserable.
Some time after I saw some advice that resonated - better a week early than a day too late.
We lost our old girl late last year. She was 18 or 19 (a beautiful little rescue dog of unknown origin), so of course I knew that she would have to go the way of all things soon enough. I'd taken the "better a week early than a day late" idea to heart, and I was ready to do what needed to be done. I kept watching her like a hawk and she stayed well, and enjoyed a pretty dignified life in decent health. But the end when it came was pretty brutal and traumatic.
I'd had her at the vet that day for her monthly oil change and they were marvelling at how well she was going. But late that night the seizures started and just didn't stop. Something catastrophic had happened and her last somewhat-lucid moments were awful. I'm really disappointed in myself for not properly anticipating the possibility that we wouldn't get a gradual deterioration to tell us it was time.
In hindsight I suppose it seems clear I should have just made the call earlier. She was going well for a bloody old dog, but no doubt her best days were well behind her. That would have been hard as well, and the rest of the family might have struggled with that call, but it probably would have been the path of least regret. I'm never in a hurry to let a good thing go, and I worry that she might have paid the price for that. How does that square up against the extra months of good times? I'm not sure, but probably not well...
Here's hoping that the right time is reasonably clear for you all.
I think the flipside of that if she was given the choice would she have preferred to hang on for those last few months to have that time with you? And that the sudden catastrophic decline was as unanticipated for her as it was for you? I don't say this to excuse your guilt, but as a reminder that as much as they are loved, they love us back just as hard. They don't want to leave any more than we want to let them go.
I lost my dad and my elder cat within weeks of each other in 2021, and it's hard to explain to people how losing the cat fucked me up so much, because what is a cat to losing a parent a decade earlier than you'd anticipated? It felt like I was just surfacing from the first wave of crushing grief over Dad, and then I had to make the decision for my beloved Kahula, a rescue tortie I'd had for 10 years, who had ADORED Dad, and that wave of grief hit me and I never came up for air after that.
Fucking cancer had her chest cavity awash in fluid that made it hard for her to breathe. She died in my arms and I howled with grief when I felt her go. Her adoptive younger brother, Nibbler, didn't leave my side for 3 weeks after that.
I'm staring down the barrel of losing Nibbler now. He's gone from the self rescuing 10 week old kitten who barged into my house 14 years ago and declared that he would be moving in (to Kahula's shock and then horror, and then, finally, grudging acceptance) to a "well cared for senior citizen" as the vet named him yesterday.
I'm currently treating him for kidney disease, which is the first horseman of the apocalypse heralding the end is coming. In Kahula and her predecessor Caz it was hyperthyroidism; in cats it always seems to be an incurable but treatable for a time disease that comes for them.
I'm dreading having to make the decision when the time comes. Nibby is my most beloved boy, the Cat Distribution System literally delivered him to my door and he chose me, quite forcefully as it turned out. Every cat is special and beloved, but there's something about being specifically chosen by a cat that can never be replicated 😭
"She did not behave like a lady of a certain age" none of the best ladies do.
It's so hard to know when. I made the same mistake with my last cat, Tabitha - looking back we should have let her go weeks earlier. Her last few days were miserable.
Some time after I saw some advice that resonated - better a week early than a day too late.
We all wait too long
Man, that sucks puss-balls. Guess it’s because no parent likes to outlive their children, which includes pets.
The only thing I think I know is that when Maggie loses her Maggie-ness, it’s a pretty fair indication.
Here’s hoping that’s still a ways off.
We lost our old girl late last year. She was 18 or 19 (a beautiful little rescue dog of unknown origin), so of course I knew that she would have to go the way of all things soon enough. I'd taken the "better a week early than a day late" idea to heart, and I was ready to do what needed to be done. I kept watching her like a hawk and she stayed well, and enjoyed a pretty dignified life in decent health. But the end when it came was pretty brutal and traumatic.
I'd had her at the vet that day for her monthly oil change and they were marvelling at how well she was going. But late that night the seizures started and just didn't stop. Something catastrophic had happened and her last somewhat-lucid moments were awful. I'm really disappointed in myself for not properly anticipating the possibility that we wouldn't get a gradual deterioration to tell us it was time.
In hindsight I suppose it seems clear I should have just made the call earlier. She was going well for a bloody old dog, but no doubt her best days were well behind her. That would have been hard as well, and the rest of the family might have struggled with that call, but it probably would have been the path of least regret. I'm never in a hurry to let a good thing go, and I worry that she might have paid the price for that. How does that square up against the extra months of good times? I'm not sure, but probably not well...
Here's hoping that the right time is reasonably clear for you all.
I think the flipside of that if she was given the choice would she have preferred to hang on for those last few months to have that time with you? And that the sudden catastrophic decline was as unanticipated for her as it was for you? I don't say this to excuse your guilt, but as a reminder that as much as they are loved, they love us back just as hard. They don't want to leave any more than we want to let them go.
Thank you, I hope that would be the case. I know I did my best at least, and I guess hindsight is always 20/20.
Goddamnit man, I am at WORK when I read these.
I lost my dad and my elder cat within weeks of each other in 2021, and it's hard to explain to people how losing the cat fucked me up so much, because what is a cat to losing a parent a decade earlier than you'd anticipated? It felt like I was just surfacing from the first wave of crushing grief over Dad, and then I had to make the decision for my beloved Kahula, a rescue tortie I'd had for 10 years, who had ADORED Dad, and that wave of grief hit me and I never came up for air after that.
Fucking cancer had her chest cavity awash in fluid that made it hard for her to breathe. She died in my arms and I howled with grief when I felt her go. Her adoptive younger brother, Nibbler, didn't leave my side for 3 weeks after that.
I'm staring down the barrel of losing Nibbler now. He's gone from the self rescuing 10 week old kitten who barged into my house 14 years ago and declared that he would be moving in (to Kahula's shock and then horror, and then, finally, grudging acceptance) to a "well cared for senior citizen" as the vet named him yesterday.
I'm currently treating him for kidney disease, which is the first horseman of the apocalypse heralding the end is coming. In Kahula and her predecessor Caz it was hyperthyroidism; in cats it always seems to be an incurable but treatable for a time disease that comes for them.
I'm dreading having to make the decision when the time comes. Nibby is my most beloved boy, the Cat Distribution System literally delivered him to my door and he chose me, quite forcefully as it turned out. Every cat is special and beloved, but there's something about being specifically chosen by a cat that can never be replicated 😭