I had planned last night to sit down and write a blog post. As is often I didn’t know about what but when I sit down my ideas gel together. I was thinking maybe I would write about spinning in some fashion.
But then life intervened. We took our cat to the vet yesterday because for a few weeks she has seemed to be breathing harder. Her chest would rise and fall more quickly. She wasn’t panting or gasping. Just her chest rose faster. I pondered an infection or maybe Congestive Heart Failure, both of which could be managed.
The vet quickly felt an internal mass in her abdomen and an x ray of the lungs showed some of it and fluid around her lungs caused by the cancer. It is inoperable. There was no hint of it five months ago when she saw the vet.
We had gotten her when she was a year and a half old from a shelter. She had had a rough beginning and was afraid of everyone. I had seen her picture in the shelter’s column in the paper and our 20 year old cat had just died. The second I saw how pretty she was and read that she would need help trusting people I knew she was mine. We were going through some transitions that were hard for me and I knew as the cliche says I needed her more even than she needed me.
After a few weeks of hiding under a bureau while I sat quietly in the room each night she grew to trust me. Months went by before she trusted my husband. Now she acts like a normal cat with us. She still hides in fear when anyone else comes in the house. But with us she is cuddly, playful and sweet. And only 4 years old.
The vet gave her a shot of steroids which he said may help her to be more comfortable for a few days by reducing the inflammation somewhat. She is still eating a bit, watching activity outside the window and engaging with us. We will know when the time to go is right by the look in her eyes. They always tell us.
We’ve lost pets before, all elderly though. I know I will still feel her presence as I do with my others. I know I will see her again. I will have more cats in my life. My brain knows life will go on but my heart hasn’t caught up with it yet.
Betsy, my heart breaks for you and your Precious.
Thank you. She seems to be feeling a little better right now so I am hoping the steroids are buying us some time for her to be more comfortable as this progresses. I can be grateful if that happens.
Betsy, I am so sorry and in tears reading this. I went through these same circumstances last year. My “Chat” was healthy and vibrant before we learned he was ill, all so suddenly. Thanks for the comforting words you gave me at that time. Enjoy these precious moments with your little girl. We will be with them again. I will be praying for peace and comfort for you and her. xo -bonnie
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. I had been thinking of e-mailing you about it since I knew you also went through this not so long ago. In the scheme of all the sadnesses in the world losing a pet seems trivial. But somehow the relationship is so strong on so many different levels. I like thinking about the fact that you came out on the other end of the process and now have Rosie!
Losing a pet is never an easy thing and positive thoughts go your way to help you through this challenging time. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Betsy, I’m so sorry that your little shy cat is so ill. 😦 That said, you write about her in such a lovely, poignant way. I especially appreciate what you say at the end, that “My brain knows life will go on but my heart hasn’t caught up with it yet.” I’ll be thinking about you and about her. Hugs, Laura
From: woolgatheringwithbetsy <firstname.lastname@example.org> Reply-To: woolgatheringwithbetsy <email@example.com> Date: Tuesday, August 25, 2015 at 6:12 PM To: Laura Castor <firstname.lastname@example.org> Subject: [New post] Waiting and Appreciating
Betsy Alspach posted: ” I had planned last night to sit down and write a blog post. As is often I didn’t know about what but when I sit down my ideas gel together. I was thinking maybe I would write about spinning in some fashion. We took our cat to the vet yesterday beca”
Thank you. I am glad we weren’t at this point before our trip. I still would have gone but it would have been a little harder. You are one of the few who has seen more than a glimpse of the blur of her running past you. In Falmouth I remember she looked into the living room and since you sat quietly and didn’t say anything she rubbed against me for a brave minute or two before going back into hiding. In her life that was a big thing!