Yesterday, I lost someone very precious to me. I'm not talking about a child, partner or in the usual sense family member, but my beloved older cat, Phantom.
She was only just 14, and had been in excellent health to all outward appearances until Saturday morning, when she started being unpleasantly sick. She did that three times and then was very listless all day, which I put down to eating something she shouldn't have in the garden. All day Sunday she was missing, which was unusual, eventually shipping up at about 7.30pm clearly very unwell and with her back legs collapsing underneath her. We took her to the emergency vet (cost - don't ask, but needless to say substantial enough to go on plastic!) who diagnosed neurological damage and recommended taking her to the usual vet in the morning for tests, and in the meantime gave her something to stop the sickness and make her feel better. Monday morning she was listless, not eating or drinking or performing bodily functions, couldn't stand properly and was trembling. The vet diagnosed brain damage due to toxins in the blood, or more likely a brain tumour which in cats is untreatable. We took the decision to put her to sleep.
I have now cried buckets over this little furry creature. She had been with me through all sorts of life changes - divorce, two weddings, three house moves, bereavements and more. She gave unconditional love and had the most endearing habits. I loved her to bits, and I am devastated that she is gone.
But it was the right thing. She was a very sick animal, what she had wrong with her probably couldn't be cured and her quality of life, if we had chosen to prolong it, would have been very poor. What made Phantom be Phantom was gone. So she died in peace and in dignity. The worst moment was leaving her in the vet's consulting room purring on the table, and seeing her look so trustingly at this kind man who was holding a syringe full of lethal injection. That was when I lost it.
It's very odd, isn't it, that we can exercise discretionary euthanasia on our animals with proper professional guidance but we cannot extend the same dignity to human beings. We have to suffer throughout the most appalling illnesses with no prospect of choosing when to end our lives if they become unbearable for whatever reason. The law in that respect is very much an ass, and needs to be changed.
Poor Phantom, 14 isn't really that old for a cat although I am told it is average. For quite some time I will see things or think of things which remind me of her and feel the tears start to well up. They may be furry with four legs, but our pets are part of our family and an integral part of who we are. They have their own little personalities and ways and we love them.
I will miss her very much.
Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss Janette. It is all very well for people to say 'it is just a cat' but they cannot truly understand the impact a loved family pet can have, especially as 14 years is one hell of a chunk of your life. This is what makes us so fundamentally human, to be able to care for a creature who in return loves you back and becomes part of your life. I can completely empathise with what you are going through. When my cat Clamber had to be put down, I was the one who went to the vet and you are so right, that moment when they look at you with so much trust as the needle goes in and then close their eyes for the last time is one of the most heartbreaking things I have had to do. I completely lost it too and cried uncontrollably for ages, leaving a character who had so embellished my life in all it's little ways. Our two oldest cats, Max and Merlin are both 13 now and I know I will probably have to face that experience again. I'm dreading it. I hope you feel less miserable soon and if anyone tells you to 'get over it' you can call them a bloodless, emotionally challenged and heartless git from me...
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