Aaagh, I can't make a decision

On Apr 14, 12:35*pm, catlady wrote:
On Apr 14, 1:48*am, wrote:









Takayuki wrote:

* I'm so sorry to hear this. I just love Smudge! She sounds like such a
* philosopher. I think I know too how cruel a kitty's cancer can be, to
* both kitty and human.

Please see my other post in the "Smudge is dying" thread.

I like that you called her a philosopher. She was a very intelligent
cat with a complex personality.

* It can be very frustrating standing by and watching this slow motion
* train wreck.

I wish it had been slower than it was. It all happened so fast that not
all parts of my brain have heard the news yet. Tonight when I got home
from work and was getting my stuff out of the car, I saw a cat walking
toward me out of the corner of my eye, and for a second, I thought it was
Smudge. It was Graham, a neighbor's cat. It was the weirdest thing.

Joyce, I'm so sorry you lost Smudge, but I am happy to hear you saw a
glimpse of her.
It's not weird at all and I don't believe it was your imagination. I
have had this same thing happen many times, and I think it's their way
of *sending us a message that they are ok. Smudge is sending you a
message and you should embrace it. :-)

I know after a cat is gone, how you can keep thinking you see the cat out
of the corner of your eye - I experienced that after Tika died. But this
was different, I actually *thought* it was Smudge for a brief moment.

It probably was. It's funny because after I lost my most special cat
in the world ever, it took me a long time to come to terms with it and
I hoped for a glimpse of him but it didn't happen like it usuallly
does. But when it did about two months later, OMG. I'm talking full
body apparition and another experience a few weeks later that
underlined it and proved I wasn't imagining things. I'll never forget
it, and it inspired me to write this tribute which touches on the
experience you described:

In our time here on earth as ailurophiles, our paths will cross with a
few- or many- beings of the feline persuasion. They will love us
unconditionally, entertain us, exasperate us, take care of us, rescue
us and change our lives just a little bit- or sometimes dramatically.
Every cat we ever know is memorable for a myriad of reasons, but for
most of us, there is one in particular who somehow captures our heart
and mind like no other. They are enigmas who fill our souls with love
and emotions that are sometimes inconceivable and mystifying, yet we
accept it just as we accept that the sky is blue and water is wet. And
when their time here winds down and they pass from this existence,
they take a part of our soul with them and we are never the same. Yet,
even in the darkest days of grief from such a horrible loss, we never
forget how blessed we are to have shared such precious time with "the
one," and for the rest of our lives we will think of them often. We
will laugh remembering the amusing things they did, sigh wistfully
thinking of the love they shared, and shed many tears wishing they
were still with us, yearning to caress their velvety fur and hear the
rumble of their contented purr. And, if we are lucky in the years to
come, we may just catch a glimpse of them here and there as a magical
reminder that "the one" has never really left us.

Very well said. Reading this brings tears to my eyes.

wrote in message
...
Takayuki wrote:

I'm so sorry to hear this. I just love Smudge! She sounds like such a
philosopher. I think I know too how cruel a kitty's cancer can be, to
both kitty and human.

Please see my other post in the "Smudge is dying" thread.

I like that you called her a philosopher. She was a very intelligent
cat with a complex personality.

It can be very frustrating standing by and watching this slow motion
train wreck.

I wish it had been slower than it was. It all happened so fast that not
all parts of my brain have heard the news yet. Tonight when I got home
from work and was getting my stuff out of the car, I saw a cat walking
toward me out of the corner of my eye, and for a second, I thought it was
Smudge. It was Graham, a neighbor's cat. It was the weirdest thing. I
know after a cat is gone, how you can keep thinking you see the cat out
of the corner of your eye - I experienced that after Tika died. But this
was different, I actually *thought* it was Smudge for a brief moment.

Joyce

I am so sorry Joyce

catlady wrote:
On Apr 14, 1:48 am, wrote:
Takayuki wrote:

I'm so sorry to hear this. I just love Smudge! She sounds like such a
philosopher. I think I know too how cruel a kitty's cancer can be, to
both kitty and human.

Please see my other post in the "Smudge is dying" thread.

I like that you called her a philosopher. She was a very intelligent
cat with a complex personality.

It can be very frustrating standing by and watching this slow motion
train wreck.

I wish it had been slower than it was. It all happened so fast that not
all parts of my brain have heard the news yet. Tonight when I got home
from work and was getting my stuff out of the car, I saw a cat walking
toward me out of the corner of my eye, and for a second, I thought it was
Smudge. It was Graham, a neighbor's cat. It was the weirdest thing.

Joyce, I'm so sorry you lost Smudge, but I am happy to hear you saw a
glimpse of her.
It's not weird at all and I don't believe it was your imagination. I
have had this same thing happen many times, and I think it's their way
of sending us a message that they are ok. Smudge is sending you a
message and you should embrace it. :-)


I know after a cat is gone, how you can keep thinking you see the cat out
of the corner of your eye - I experienced that after Tika died. But this
was different, I actually *thought* it was Smudge for a brief moment.


It probably was. It's funny because after I lost my most special cat
in the world ever, it took me a long time to come to terms with it and
I hoped for a glimpse of him but it didn't happen like it usuallly
does. But when it did about two months later, OMG. I'm talking full
body apparition and another experience a few weeks later that
underlined it and proved I wasn't imagining things. I'll never forget
it, and it inspired me to write this tribute which touches on the
experience you described:


In our time here on earth as ailurophiles, our paths will cross with a
few- or many- beings of the feline persuasion. They will love us
unconditionally, entertain us, exasperate us, take care of us, rescue
us and change our lives just a little bit- or sometimes dramatically.
Every cat we ever know is memorable for a myriad of reasons, but for
most of us, there is one in particular who somehow captures our heart
and mind like no other. They are enigmas who fill our souls with love
and emotions that are sometimes inconceivable and mystifying, yet we
accept it just as we accept that the sky is blue and water is wet. And
when their time here winds down and they pass from this existence,
they take a part of our soul with them and we are never the same. Yet,
even in the darkest days of grief from such a horrible loss, we never
forget how blessed we are to have shared such precious time with "the
one," and for the rest of our lives we will think of them often. We
will laugh remembering the amusing things they did, sigh wistfully
thinking of the love they shared, and shed many tears wishing they
were still with us, yearning to caress their velvety fur and hear the
rumble of their contented purr. And, if we are lucky in the years to
come, we may just catch a glimpse of them here and there as a magical
reminder that "the one" has never really left us.



That is beautifully written and is a wonderful tribute to a beloved
friend. When Princess passed (Siamese RB 16). I kept her ashes in a
porcelaine jar on my dresser. I always felt she was near. After 5
years, I decided to bury her ashes at the side of my house. I planted a
dwarf spruce there.

On Apr 14, 5:41*pm, MLB wrote:
catlady wrote:
On Apr 14, 1:48 am, wrote:
Takayuki wrote:

* I'm so sorry to hear this. I just love Smudge! She sounds like such a
* philosopher. I think I know too how cruel a kitty's cancer can be, to
* both kitty and human.

Please see my other post in the "Smudge is dying" thread.

I like that you called her a philosopher. She was a very intelligent
cat with a complex personality.

* It can be very frustrating standing by and watching this slow motion
* train wreck.

I wish it had been slower than it was. It all happened so fast that not
all parts of my brain have heard the news yet. Tonight when I got home
from work and was getting my stuff out of the car, I saw a cat walking
toward me out of the corner of my eye, and for a second, I thought it was
Smudge. It was Graham, a neighbor's cat. It was the weirdest thing.

Joyce, I'm so sorry you lost Smudge, but I am happy to hear you saw a
glimpse of her.
It's not weird at all and I don't believe it was your imagination. I
have had this same thing happen many times, and I think it's their way
of *sending us a message that they are ok. Smudge is sending you a
message and you should embrace it. :-)

I know after a cat is gone, how you can keep thinking you see the cat out
of the corner of your eye - I experienced that after Tika died. But this
was different, I actually *thought* it was Smudge for a brief moment.

It probably was. It's funny because after I lost my most special cat
in the world ever, it took me a long time to come to terms with it and
I hoped for a glimpse of him but it didn't happen like it usuallly
does. But when it did about two months later, OMG. I'm talking full
body apparition and another experience a few weeks later that
underlined it and proved I wasn't imagining things. I'll never forget
it, and it inspired me to write this tribute which touches on the
experience you described:

In our time here on earth as ailurophiles, our paths will cross with a
few- or many- beings of the feline persuasion. They will love us
unconditionally, entertain us, exasperate us, take care of us, rescue
us and change our lives just a little bit- or sometimes dramatically.
Every cat we ever know is memorable for a myriad of reasons, but for
most of us, there is one in particular who somehow captures our heart
and mind like no other. They are enigmas who fill our souls with love
and emotions that are sometimes inconceivable and mystifying, yet we
accept it just as we accept that the sky is blue and water is wet. And
when their time here winds down and they pass from this existence,
they take a part of our soul with them and we are never the same. Yet,
even in the darkest days of grief from such a horrible loss, we never
forget how blessed we are to have shared such precious time with "the
one," and for the rest of our lives we will think of them often. We
will laugh remembering the amusing things they did, sigh wistfully
thinking of the love they shared, and shed many tears wishing they
were still with us, yearning to caress their velvety fur and hear the
rumble of their contented purr. And, if we are lucky in the years to
come, we may just catch a glimpse of them here and there as a magical
reminder that "the one" has never really left us.

That is beautifully written and is a wonderful tribute to a beloved
friend. * When Princess passed (Siamese RB 16). I kept her ashes in a
porcelaine jar on my dresser. *I always felt she was near. *After 5
years, I decided to bury her ashes at the side of my house. *I planted a
dwarf spruce there.

My orange tabby Rusty also went to RB at 16 a couple of months ago.
I got his ashes back in an urn. I have planned to
eventually bury his ashes in the backyard of my mother's house. I
live
in a highrise so have no place to bury him here.
Now you give me the idea of planting a small tree, or maybe a rose
bush at
the burial site. Thanks.

On 15/04/2011 01:51, Winnie wrote:

My orange tabby Rusty also went to RB at 16 a couple of months ago.
I got his ashes back in an urn. I have planned to
eventually bury his ashes in the backyard of my mother's house. I
live
in a highrise so have no place to bury him here.
Now you give me the idea of planting a small tree, or maybe a rose
bush at
the burial site. Thanks.

I scattered Frank's and Nikki's ashes at the foot of a large wild
rosebush on the island. When I took Frank's ashes there, one year after
I had scattered Nikki's ashes, the bush was looking sort of grey and
there were no blooms. A few days later, I went to visit it, and it was
completely covered in roses! If I believed in these things, I would have
thought it was Nikki welcoming Frank, glad to be together again.

--
Marina, Miranda and Caliban.
In loving memory of Frank and Nikki.

On Fri, 8 Apr 2011 14:31:49 -0700, "Joy" wrote:

wrote in message
.. .
dgk wrote:

I've said this many times and I'll say it again. You can't win this
argument because our cats can't talk so we don't know what they would
want us to do. We go by the slightest clues, the eyes look alert,
he/she ate a little bit, he/she is lying in the sunlight, the tail is
erect. Was that a purr or a moan?

Either we feel bad because we made them suffer too long, or we feel
that we killed them when there was still a decent quality of life. How
can you win this? How can we do other than feel that we made a
mistake?

All we can do is our best, and we're not going to be happy with that.

Thanks for saying this. It's just a bad set of choices and none of them
are going to feel good. And then it's hard not to equate "I don't feel
good"
with "I made a mistake".

Joyce

Right. It's also true that whenever a loved one dies, even if we didn't
have any choice in the matter, we manage to find something to feel guilty
about.

Hugs and purrs,

Joy


I've been away for a few days because my mom's significant other died
(age 89). The final debate was whether he should go on dialysis as his
kidneys were failing and the doctors all said not to do it so they
didn't. Sam wasn't really with it enough to make a decision but had
said previously that he didn't want to go on dialysis.

The doctors all felt that everything was just collapsing and all we
would do would be to make him suffer more and that there would not be
any chance for a decent quality of life.

Of course, afterwards mom was saying that maybe she should have
insisted that he be put on dialysis, that maybe he would have gotten
to the point of being able to enjoy life. So I told her about my
feeling with cats, that you just can't win the argument. Would she
want him to suffer when there was just no likelyhood of him improving?

You're right Joy, we just feel bad that we couldn't do more, but
sometimes there is just nothing more that can be done. Otherwise, we'd
all live forever and it isn't designed that way.