Dear pete:

I am so glad to read from you again, and on a new thread. I am addressing you by your screen name and not by the other name because this is a new thread, and unless you let me know that you want me to address you by a different name, I will stick with your screen name.

I was so excited that you posted that I didn’t read your story before I typed the above. The story: you had a cat since Oct 2018,  a cat you pretty much rescued from a home where the cat was kept outside while the other cats were kept  inside, and the cat owners didnt believe in giving medicine to their cats. The cat, “a sweet and kind kitty and so passive” at times fought other cats, being the bully, unlike his usual passive nature. Finally, you got the cat and had him since Oct 2018, for more than a year and eight months.

Two months ago, an abscess on his neck burst, and the vet found a large tumor in his body. A surgery to remove the tumor was scheduled. A few days before the surgery, the cat’s right eye became huge: a detached retina caused a loss of vision on the right eye. His health overall was deteriorating: he didn’t eat or drink hardly anything, lost weight and his ability to move much, and started hiding.

The vet gave you a medicine for five days. The medicine, Mirtazapine Transdermal, so to increase his appetite.

* As the name of the medicine indicates, it’s transdermal, which means it’s not to be taken in through the mouth or injected through the skin, but applied to the unbroken skin. It is a cream or an ointment, and it may be given in a time-release form, such as skin patches.  (Mirtazapine Transdermal is the first transdermal product to receive FDA approval for use in cats, happened two years ago).But you wrote that the medicine was “syringed in his ear every day for 5 days and costs $21”- I don’t understand how a transdermal medicine which is to be applied to the unbroken skin, being an ointment, was syringed to your cat…???

Some time after you ran out of the medicine (you didn’t get more of it, if I understand correctly, because it was too expensive, about $5 per day, and it wasn’t going to fix the underlying health problems), your cat “started hiding and not eating again, started whimpering/ crying.. kept having to find a new spot to sleep and he wasn’t comfortable. A few days later he was put down July 7.

“I was losing it and crying SO HARD. I’ve not cried this hard since the passing of my last kitty. I loved him so much!… He passed with my arm around him and my face a couple of inches from his, and I kissed his head with my mask on and hugged him before I left… I am never going to see him again unless an afterlife exists”.

“We had such a great thing, the 2 of us. He would jump off my dad’s bed and meet me at the hallway when I woke up.. he would call me from far away.. he would lay down on his side and I would rub my head and face all over his side instead of pet his side, kiss his forehead.. When I fed him he won’t eat unless he can rub his tail along my leg like saying ‘thank you, or brush his hip on my leg and start eating”.

“It’s all over now and I am having trouble coping.. I am so depressed and would repeat.. ‘I’m sorry, I hope you forgive me but your pain is over now’. It’s so hard adjusting to this now without my friend here… I’ve now lost 1 dg and 3 cats in 14 years, that’s not normal!”.Your dog died at 13, and your previous cat died from FIP.

* FIP stands for Feline Infectious Peritonitis, which is a viral disease that occurs worldwide in wild and domesticated cats, caused by a coronavirus that tends to attack the cells of the intestinal wall. The symptoms are severe. (The coronavirus that causes FIP was isolated and characterized in 1970. Another coronavirus nearly identical to the FIP virus was isolated in 1981, it infects cats, but causes only a very mild diarrhea, and easy recovery follows).

Your second cat died from pancreatic cancer. Your most recent cat, the one you just lost, “was the most loveable cat I have had of the 3… But I miss and love all 4 of my pets in different ways because they are all different, but it’s the same amount of love I have for them”.

Pete- I am so sorry for your loss of your cat, and for the loss of all of your four pets. You mentioned how much you loved them all, and it connects with what I wrote to you in your previous thread, repeatedly: that you are a loving person. Remember that, love is within you, and that love didn’t die with the pets you loved so much. Your love is still alive.

anita

Hi Pete,

Fellow animal lover here. I’m so sorry for your profound loss. I just wanted to reach out to express my condolences and to say THANK YOU for giving your cat what were undoubtedly the best 2+ years of his life. I have so much gratitude for you, and I don’t even know you. If a stranger can feel this without knowing you, I can assure you that your cat had an infinite amount of gratitude and appreciation for you; you gave him the life he always deserved.

I relate very personally to your story. A week after moving to NY my first cat—Henry—found me on a street in Brooklyn. He was the coolest and quickly became my best friend. About six months later, I adopted a second cat to give Henry some company while I was at work, and thus we welcomed Vika into our family. Vika was—and is—a much more typical cat, but Henry charmed the hearts of people who’d say things like “I never wanted a cat, but I’d have one if he could be like Henry” after meeting him.

We had 7 glorious years together. Then one day I came home and immediately knew something wasn’t right with Henry. I grabbed him in my arms and ran around trying to find a vet that was open since it was a holiday. I finally succeeded, and while walking there he looked up at me, rested his head on my hands, and then died in my arms.

The rest of that day—week even—is a blur. For the next two months I had crying fits just when I thought I might finally be okay. The grief we experience—it’s a sign of how much we loved these little guys. Maybe they saved us as much as we saved them. I cry as I type this even though Henry’s death occurred about 1.5 years ago.

In closing, I want to leave you with a sentiment from Nora McInerny, who said something to the effect of “we don’t move on from grief, we move forward with it.” (There’s a TED Talk on it that’s worth your time if you’re so inclined.)

“We don’t move on from grief, we move forward with it.” I’ll always love and miss Henry, just as you will always love and miss your cats and dog. The pain becomes less acute over time. I’m not sure it ever fully goes away (sometimes I cry still just thinking of that one), but that love—those scars, those testaments to all the messiness and affection of the bond that binds two creatures for the short time they coexist in each other’s space while on this planet—stays with us forever, and our grief is a great, visceral testament to it.

So sorry once again for your loss. Grieve and mourn for as long as you need and in whatever ways you need. And then take that love and honor it. There are lots of ways to do so, but doing for other animals what you did for your cat is absolutely one of them: loving them unconditionally and giving them the best lives possible during the short time they’re here (and I am certain they will return the gesture).

Sending you lots of love and good energy from NY (and Vika says hello too!). Take care, Pete, and be well.

🙏❤️

• This reply was modified 4 years, 4 months ago by John.