You do what you can, then you do what you have to do

I've posted here before about my cat Isabel (Bizzy) who very often wouldn't use
her litterbox. We moved in October and for some reason, she seemed very happy
here; she could go outside more often and the litterbox problem disappeared
overnight.

I had her for 12 years. She'd been with me through my divorce, unemployment,
marginal employment and other crises. We were both in a really good place now,
though.

She was a gentle creature; even played with my cockatiel and they were funny to
watch together (and I always watched them).

A few weeks ago, she started sneezing and rubbing her nose. Always very vocal,
her voice was weaker. Her lymph nodes were noticeably swollen.

Blood work and needle aspiration were not conclusive and she was put on
antibiotics, which didn't help. Her lymph nodes continue to grow.

She was scheduled for a biopsy last week but by that time was sleeping a lot,
hard to wake up, throwing up slightly more frequently. I'd known 2 weeks ago I
was going to lose her and I'm glad I had some time to spend with her. We spent
time outside, sat in a rocking chair a lot and she snuggled closer at night.

I called the doctor prior to the biopsy and discussed chemo, etc., but I didn't
think she'd live long enough to get the pathologist's report and decided the
best thing to do was let her go before she started to suffer.

The day leading up to this was horrible. I sat in my office and just cried and
cried all the way down to the vet's.

We stood at a window in the vet's office while they set things up and she
looked outside and was still interested in things going on. I held her while
the vet gave her the shot. She was there, and in the next instant, she was
gone.

Oddly enough, that moment put me at peace. And except for right now, I haven't
had to cry so much. I'd never had to put an animal down, put I knew I'd done
the right thing for her.

This day comes no matter what or how long an animal who shares your life lives.
It's the risk you take and it's so hard.

I went through this little tale here because if you've ever doubted that you
could put your animal to sleep, that it would be too hard, it really is the
kindest, gentlest thing you can do for them. Who wouldn't want to go that way.

I loved her.I owed her that.

So sorry to hear of your sad loss. You are right, you did what you could,
and then when you could do no more you were brave enough to do the right
thing. Have the knowledge that your pet had a great life with you and that
you were friends to the last.

Purrrrs from Memphis and Phoenix

I'm sorry to hear about your cat. Even though you know you are doing the
right thing, it is never easy.
You have my sympathies.

S.

"Ruffiane" wrote in message
...
I've posted here before about my cat Isabel (Bizzy) who very often
wouldn't use
her litterbox. We moved in October and for some reason, she seemed very
happy
here; she could go outside more often and the litterbox problem
disappeared
overnight.

I had her for 12 years. She'd been with me through my divorce,
unemployment,
marginal employment and other crises. We were both in a really good place
now,
though.

She was a gentle creature; even played with my cockatiel and they were
funny to
watch together (and I always watched them).

A few weeks ago, she started sneezing and rubbing her nose. Always very
vocal,
her voice was weaker. Her lymph nodes were noticeably swollen.

Blood work and needle aspiration were not conclusive and she was put on
antibiotics, which didn't help. Her lymph nodes continue to grow.

She was scheduled for a biopsy last week but by that time was sleeping a
lot,
hard to wake up, throwing up slightly more frequently. I'd known 2 weeks
ago I
was going to lose her and I'm glad I had some time to spend with her. We
spent
time outside, sat in a rocking chair a lot and she snuggled closer at
night.

I called the doctor prior to the biopsy and discussed chemo, etc., but I
didn't
think she'd live long enough to get the pathologist's report and decided
the
best thing to do was let her go before she started to suffer.

The day leading up to this was horrible. I sat in my office and just cried
and
cried all the way down to the vet's.

We stood at a window in the vet's office while they set things up and she
looked outside and was still interested in things going on. I held her
while
the vet gave her the shot. She was there, and in the next instant, she was
gone.

Oddly enough, that moment put me at peace. And except for right now, I
haven't
had to cry so much. I'd never had to put an animal down, put I knew I'd
done
the right thing for her.

This day comes no matter what or how long an animal who shares your life
lives.
It's the risk you take and it's so hard.

I went through this little tale here because if you've ever doubted that
you
could put your animal to sleep, that it would be too hard, it really is
the
kindest, gentlest thing you can do for them. Who wouldn't want to go that
way.

I loved her.I owed her that.

On Sun, 09 Jan 2005 16:31:10 +0000, Ruffiane wrote:

I've posted here before about my cat Isabel (Bizzy) who very often wouldn't use
her litterbox. We moved in October and for some reason, she seemed very happy
here; she could go outside more often and the litterbox problem disappeared
overnight.

I had her for 12 years. She'd been with me through my divorce, unemployment,
marginal employment and other crises. We were both in a really good place now,
though.

She was a gentle creature; even played with my cockatiel and they were funny to
watch together (and I always watched them).

A few weeks ago, she started sneezing and rubbing her nose. Always very vocal,
her voice was weaker. Her lymph nodes were noticeably swollen.

Blood work and needle aspiration were not conclusive and she was put on
antibiotics, which didn't help. Her lymph nodes continue to grow.

She was scheduled for a biopsy last week but by that time was sleeping a lot,
hard to wake up, throwing up slightly more frequently. I'd known 2 weeks ago I
was going to lose her and I'm glad I had some time to spend with her. We spent
time outside, sat in a rocking chair a lot and she snuggled closer at night.

I called the doctor prior to the biopsy and discussed chemo, etc., but I didn't
think she'd live long enough to get the pathologist's report and decided the
best thing to do was let her go before she started to suffer.

The day leading up to this was horrible. I sat in my office and just cried and
cried all the way down to the vet's.

We stood at a window in the vet's office while they set things up and she
looked outside and was still interested in things going on. I held her while
the vet gave her the shot. She was there, and in the next instant, she was
gone.

Oddly enough, that moment put me at peace. And except for right now, I haven't
had to cry so much. I'd never had to put an animal down, put I knew I'd done
the right thing for her.

This day comes no matter what or how long an animal who shares your life lives.
It's the risk you take and it's so hard.

I went through this little tale here because if you've ever doubted that you
could put your animal to sleep, that it would be too hard, it really is the
kindest, gentlest thing you can do for them. Who wouldn't want to go that way.

I loved her.I owed her that.


"Rise up slowly, Angel. It's hard to let you go---"
Purrs for Bizzy that she is happy at the Bridge. MLB

In article ,
(Ruffiane) wrote:

Oddly enough, that moment put me at peace. And except for right now, I haven't
had to cry so much. I'd never had to put an animal down, put I knew I'd done
the right thing for her.

It's probably the most loving thing we can do. *hugs*

Priscilla

--
"It is very, very dangerous to treat any human, lowest
of the low even, with contempt and arrogant whatever.
The Lord takes this kind of treatment very, very personal."
- QBaal in newsgroup alt.religion.christian.episcopal

"Ruffiane" wrote in message
...
I've posted here before about my cat Isabel (Bizzy) who very often
wouldn't use
her litterbox. We moved in October and for some reason, she seemed very
happy
here; she could go outside more often and the litterbox problem
disappeared
overnight.

I had her for 12 years. She'd been with me through my divorce,
unemployment,
marginal employment and other crises. We were both in a really good place
now,
though.

She was a gentle creature; even played with my cockatiel and they were
funny to
watch together (and I always watched them).

A few weeks ago, she started sneezing and rubbing her nose. Always very
vocal,
her voice was weaker. Her lymph nodes were noticeably swollen.

Blood work and needle aspiration were not conclusive and she was put on
antibiotics, which didn't help. Her lymph nodes continue to grow.

She was scheduled for a biopsy last week but by that time was sleeping a
lot,
hard to wake up, throwing up slightly more frequently. I'd known 2 weeks
ago I
was going to lose her and I'm glad I had some time to spend with her. We
spent
time outside, sat in a rocking chair a lot and she snuggled closer at
night.

I called the doctor prior to the biopsy and discussed chemo, etc., but I
didn't
think she'd live long enough to get the pathologist's report and decided
the
best thing to do was let her go before she started to suffer.

The day leading up to this was horrible. I sat in my office and just cried
and
cried all the way down to the vet's.

We stood at a window in the vet's office while they set things up and she
looked outside and was still interested in things going on. I held her
while
the vet gave her the shot. She was there, and in the next instant, she was
gone.

Oddly enough, that moment put me at peace. And except for right now, I
haven't
had to cry so much. I'd never had to put an animal down, put I knew I'd
done
the right thing for her.

This day comes no matter what or how long an animal who shares your life
lives.
It's the risk you take and it's so hard.

I went through this little tale here because if you've ever doubted that
you
could put your animal to sleep, that it would be too hard, it really is
the
kindest, gentlest thing you can do for them. Who wouldn't want to go that
way.

I loved her.I owed her that.




I'm so sorry for your loss. She knew you loved her, of that you can
be sure.

On 2005-01-09, Ruffiane penned:

This day comes no matter what or how long an animal who shares your life
lives. It's the risk you take and it's so hard.

I went through this little tale here because if you've ever doubted that you
could put your animal to sleep, that it would be too hard, it really is the
kindest, gentlest thing you can do for them. Who wouldn't want to go that
way.

I loved her.I owed her that.

I'm sorry for your loss. My parents taught me that one of the most important
responsibilities you have as a pet owner is to give them the gift of peace
when they're in constant, hopeless pain. It's cruelty to keep them alive just
for our own comfort. You did the right thing, and I am sure she thanks you.

--
monique, roommate of Oscar the (female) grouch
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eros was adopted! Eros has a home now! *cheer!*

"Ruffiane" wrote in message
...
I've posted here before about my cat Isabel (Bizzy) I had her for 12
years. The day leading up to this was horrible. I sat in my office and
just cried and
cried all the way down to the vet's.

We stood at a window in the vet's office while they set things up and she
looked outside and was still interested in things going on. I held her
while
the vet gave her the shot. She was there, and in the next instant, she was
gone.

I went through this little tale here because if you've ever doubted that
you
could put your animal to sleep, that it would be too hard, it really is
the
kindest, gentlest thing you can do for them. Who wouldn't want to go that
way.

I loved her.I owed her that.

So sad. They say that you should never have children or animals because the
loss of either wounds deeply.
When the day comes for Chloe to turn up her paws I have determined to do as
you did, but with a joyful heart and to light a remembrance candle every
anniversary.
I didn't cry when I lost both parents in 6 months but I will shed a tear for
Chloe.

Icedog (An ageing, softie, Brit.)