|
I never post here in Pet Island but I saw this thread existed and thought this would be a helpful place to share this. My cat, Dweezil, came from a shelter in 2008, originally with the name "Einstein". He quickly showed that name was inappropriate by falling off of a swivel chair. I was way into Frank Zappa at the time so I named him after his oldest son. He was 8 months old when we adopted him and he immediately grew attached to us as a member of the family. He lived in two apartments and two homes as we moved across the cities, complaining to no end about the car ride but settling into each new home very quickly. He threw his weight around when we got a second cat, and then stood up in full force when we got a dog. He was the undisputed cock of the walk and never let anyone give him any poo poo. He would follow me throughout the house, he would come with me downstairs to my office when it was time to work (and try to rewrite my code, he was pretty bad at that), and would always let me know when it was his turn to sit in the office chair. He somehow had a psychic ability to know when I was sitting down to play a game because he'd come zooming in and jump on the keyboard, making sure I would only pay attention to him. He was terrible at farming, mining, space exploration, and tanking, but he was a really good cat. As he got older he'd started slowing down a bit and started dropping weight. Slowly at first, but it really accelerated the past few months. He had a good appetite and drank plenty of water and all of his blood work always came back clean: no thyroid issues, no kidney problems, no diabetes, nothing. For the past couple days he completely changed and spent most of the day hiding under the bed. He wouldn't come out for pets, he wouldn't stray far from the bedroom, and whenever he did he would just kind of wander around lost. He had a yearly scheduled for next week but I wasn't going to let this sit for too long. They took him in today on an emergency appointment and found out he had a tumor in his jaw, bone cancer. I always told him that as long as he let me know when he was hurting, I would do the right thing and take care of him. So we did. I had pets growing up but I was never allowed in the room when they were put to sleep so I had no idea what I was expecting going into this. He was very happy to see me and my wife, and three hours ago we sent him off. Wherever he lands on the great cosmic wheel I hope he does well. I'm so loving hollow right now that I'm even having a hard time typing all this out. I have pictures of him I'd like to share but I can't even bring myself to look at them right now. He was such a good boy. We got nearly 14 amazing years with him. I love you big man.
|
#
¿
Feb 23, 2022 23:22
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 8, 2024 10:35 |
|
|
I brought my Drake posted:I came home from work yesterday to find her dead on the floor, just outside of her heated bed. Twisted, like she tripped. When I lost Dweezil last year, I beat myself up repeatedly over not catching his cancer earlier. It’s a tough feeling, and I’m so sorry for your loss. It’s ok to both have and confront those feelings. But Pixel there is looking like she was well cared for and loved.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 22, 2023 03:13
|
|
|
I’ve got a weird quasi-regret that I’ve never been able to shake. It’s been a little over two years since I lost Dweezil and of course I miss that cantankerous little bastard every day I wake up. He had an aggressive osteosarcoma in his jaw, and in two days went from looking fine to ready to say goodbye. Everything I’ve ever read about that particular condition isn’t good: it’s painful, aggressive, and surgery might get you a few extra months but at what expense of my companion’s dignity? Surgery was never an option for him; I told him that the only thing I would ever ask of him was to tell me when it was time to go, and I would take care of him. He held up his end of the bargain, and so did I. But for some bizarre reason, I find myself incredibly pissed off at an alternative universe me that DID do the surgery. It’s a painfully intrusive thought, but I have this immense anger and regret at some version of me that doesn’t exist. I guess it just comes down to the fact that grief is a vicious, unpredictable beast and there isn’t a right way to experience it. So I’m just gonna tell you goons the one thing I can’t tell myself: the decision you made regarding your pet’s, your companion’s, health and well-being was the right one. You loved them, and it showed.
|
|
#
¿
Mar 12, 2024 05:55
|
|