DREADFUL GUILT AND LOSS AFTER EUTHANASING MY 17 YEAR OLD CAT
Posted: Fri Sep 11, 2015 12:01 pm
Sorry, this is going to be a long one....
I had to put my beloved cat to sleep on 26 August and I am struggling with guilt and feelings of loss. I know it is a normal reaction, but I wanted to write something to help me through.
Furzo had lived with me for 10 years, having come to me from an aunt who was no longer able to look after him due to Alzheimer's. I loved him to bits.
Having got to the age of 17 (and a half) Furzo had gingivitis and kidney failure. He'd been getting increasingly fussy over his food and had gone off his crunchy biscuits and treats and wasn't eating much at all - but he seemed reasonably bright and purry. Ultimately his blood tests were practically off the scale for kidney function and at his final visit to the vet were offered the option of either euthanasia there and then or a B12 injection to stimulate his appetite. We chose the B12 injection but unfortunately, we were also given an appointment for euthanasia the following day, because the vet said if Furzo didn't eat very soon, he would never start to eat again.
We took Furzo home that evening and you can imagine how I was practically bouncing off the ceilings with elation when Furzo started to eat the special food the vet had given us! All I could think about was that we might have him for a few more weeks. That elation was short lived because that was the last food he ever ate.
The following morning I couldn't temp Furzo with anything. I tried tinned salmon and tuna (mashed to bits) and the special food, and he kept looking at it but wouldn't eat. Then he kept asking me for food by going to the food cupboard, as if I could somehow find something in there to tempt him. All I could get him to do was drink cat milk and the juice I had drained off from the tuna and salmon - which he guzzled down - but he couldn't seem to drink it on his own and I had to hold the bowl up so he could drink standing upright.
I knew the provisional euthanasia appointment was looming that evening, and as the day went on he didn't eat or be able to seem to drink without my help, and I became increasingly frightened about him being in distress overnight if I put off the appointment. I phoned the vet and organised home euthanasia, but it turned out I had to bring forward the appointment by a couple of hours so the vet could get back for evening surgery.
Furzo and I spent the afternoon lying in a sunny spot on the rug and I poured out my heart to him talking to him about all my memories and good times we had shared. When the vet arrived Furzo had been watching the birds and was mid wash with his leg in the air - and he seemed so normal! He'd even greeted me with his little chirrup as I walked into the room. I think that's what makes it so hard - I keep torturing myself that I acted too hastily. Even worse, when he was euthanased Furzo had a bad reaction to the sedative and as soon as the injection was administered started gagging continuously (like he was trying to be sick) for what seemed like an eternity until the sedative worked - it was horrendous. Not the peaceful passing I had been given to expect, and I was in shock. I was so frightened, all I was saying (very hysterically through the tears) throughout was 'I'm so sorry Furzo', 'I'm so sorry'......
That evening we kept his body in the living room with us, and at bed time it seemed fitting for me to bring him into the bedroom overnight. It just seemed right to keep him with us, and we just put his carrier on his little stool by the bed so he was close by.
I know the reaction to the sedative was not my fault or the vet's fault, but it was beyond traumatic. I miss Furzo so much and now all I keep thinking is that I should have persevered a bit longer and tried a bit harder. Seeing him on his last afternoon, purring, sunning himself, having a wash and watching the birds, he just looked like his old self, and I can't stop worrying I acted too hastily, but I didn't want to lose him or be without him - having him put to sleep was the worst thing I have ever had to do as he was so dearly loved and such a big part of my life.
He was such a lovely cat and such a character, and I miss him so much. I know things will get better, but at the moment I'm still heartbroken and he has left such a hole in my life. I have loved and lost cats before, but losing Furzo has hit me the hardest and it's really difficult adjusting to life without him.
I had to put my beloved cat to sleep on 26 August and I am struggling with guilt and feelings of loss. I know it is a normal reaction, but I wanted to write something to help me through.
Furzo had lived with me for 10 years, having come to me from an aunt who was no longer able to look after him due to Alzheimer's. I loved him to bits.
Having got to the age of 17 (and a half) Furzo had gingivitis and kidney failure. He'd been getting increasingly fussy over his food and had gone off his crunchy biscuits and treats and wasn't eating much at all - but he seemed reasonably bright and purry. Ultimately his blood tests were practically off the scale for kidney function and at his final visit to the vet were offered the option of either euthanasia there and then or a B12 injection to stimulate his appetite. We chose the B12 injection but unfortunately, we were also given an appointment for euthanasia the following day, because the vet said if Furzo didn't eat very soon, he would never start to eat again.
We took Furzo home that evening and you can imagine how I was practically bouncing off the ceilings with elation when Furzo started to eat the special food the vet had given us! All I could think about was that we might have him for a few more weeks. That elation was short lived because that was the last food he ever ate.
The following morning I couldn't temp Furzo with anything. I tried tinned salmon and tuna (mashed to bits) and the special food, and he kept looking at it but wouldn't eat. Then he kept asking me for food by going to the food cupboard, as if I could somehow find something in there to tempt him. All I could get him to do was drink cat milk and the juice I had drained off from the tuna and salmon - which he guzzled down - but he couldn't seem to drink it on his own and I had to hold the bowl up so he could drink standing upright.
I knew the provisional euthanasia appointment was looming that evening, and as the day went on he didn't eat or be able to seem to drink without my help, and I became increasingly frightened about him being in distress overnight if I put off the appointment. I phoned the vet and organised home euthanasia, but it turned out I had to bring forward the appointment by a couple of hours so the vet could get back for evening surgery.
Furzo and I spent the afternoon lying in a sunny spot on the rug and I poured out my heart to him talking to him about all my memories and good times we had shared. When the vet arrived Furzo had been watching the birds and was mid wash with his leg in the air - and he seemed so normal! He'd even greeted me with his little chirrup as I walked into the room. I think that's what makes it so hard - I keep torturing myself that I acted too hastily. Even worse, when he was euthanased Furzo had a bad reaction to the sedative and as soon as the injection was administered started gagging continuously (like he was trying to be sick) for what seemed like an eternity until the sedative worked - it was horrendous. Not the peaceful passing I had been given to expect, and I was in shock. I was so frightened, all I was saying (very hysterically through the tears) throughout was 'I'm so sorry Furzo', 'I'm so sorry'......
That evening we kept his body in the living room with us, and at bed time it seemed fitting for me to bring him into the bedroom overnight. It just seemed right to keep him with us, and we just put his carrier on his little stool by the bed so he was close by.
I know the reaction to the sedative was not my fault or the vet's fault, but it was beyond traumatic. I miss Furzo so much and now all I keep thinking is that I should have persevered a bit longer and tried a bit harder. Seeing him on his last afternoon, purring, sunning himself, having a wash and watching the birds, he just looked like his old self, and I can't stop worrying I acted too hastily, but I didn't want to lose him or be without him - having him put to sleep was the worst thing I have ever had to do as he was so dearly loved and such a big part of my life.
He was such a lovely cat and such a character, and I miss him so much. I know things will get better, but at the moment I'm still heartbroken and he has left such a hole in my life. I have loved and lost cats before, but losing Furzo has hit me the hardest and it's really difficult adjusting to life without him.