I am writing with a very heavy heart today, friends.
On Saturday I said a final goodbye to my very dear cat, MOO. Last year, he had a tumour removed. A few months later, it returned. Cody and I made the decision to let him live his life the best he could until the cancer started to effect him. He was doing amazingly well until last week. He started to not eat as much; he had trouble going to the bathroom; I noticed a big weight loss. And there’s the huge tumour on his back – a daily reminder of how limited his time with us was going to be.
MOO wasn’t effected by the rapidly growing tumour. He was a happy, well-fed, affectionate cat. He loved to chase his cat-brother around and wrestle. He even started to enjoy playing with our roommates cat, Teddy. He didn’t slow down once, until a week ago.
I am so grateful to have had a whole extra year with him. If the tumour hadn’t been removed when it was, he would have passed away much sooner. I have cherished every second, minute, hour, and day with him.
In 2007, I was looking to get a cat of my own. I was living with my cousin, Cody and I had been dating for a few months. I went to the Toronto Humane Society website and saw the picture of “Freckles”. It was love at first sight. I knew I loved him and I didn’t even meet him yet. We brought him home from the shelter and he was comfortable with the apartment and Cody and I very fast. We didn’t like his name, so we changed it to MOO. He liked it better too – and was able to recognize his new name easily.
I quickly became very attached to MOO, and he to I. It was a little weird – all pets I’d had were always bonded with another family member of mine. MOO was so different. When I’d get ready to go to bed, I’d call him and say “Bedtime!” and he’d come running. He crawl under the covers and stay there till I fell asleep. When I was sick, MOO didn’t leave the bed for very long. When I was sad, he always laid down beside me and let me cry into his fur. He was so much more than a pet to me – he was a friend, a companion, a confidant, and my fur baby. Life without him is not going to be the same.
Though I loved this kitty more than I can convey, I feared that we’d be branded as bad pet owners for not having the tumour removed a second time. However, as I sat crying in Exam Room 4 while the doctor got ready for MOO’s euthanasia, she put me at ease. She told me MOO was a beautiful cat. She told me that he was ready to go, and this was the best decision for him. She told me that putting him through a second invasive surgery would not have been fair to him. She confirmed that she would have let her cat live out his life the way Cody and I let MOO continue.
I told Cody that I wasn’t going to be able to have him put to sleep if he was scared. MOO knew this, and he sat in the backseat of the car the entire way to the clinic – which was an hour away, purring and snuggling me. This was well received by me, since the last week he’d been reclusive and hiding a lot. He purred when we were in the exam room; he purred when my cousin carried him away to the back to put an IV cathetar in; he purred while I held him and pet him as the injection was given. It was his last gift to me: to let me know he was ready to sleep.
It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I didn’t think I was going to be able to go in the exam room while he was being euthanized. I was terrified to watch him pass. I admit – I lost my shit a few times, but when MOO was there, I stayed strong. I’m happy that I was the last face he saw and the last words he heard were “I love you, beebee.”
It’s been a couple of days and I still come into our room expecting to see him on the bed. I get choked up when I see his brother looking around for him. And when Cody is staring off into space, I feel so sad. Cody had to make the appointment and watch this happen too. He loved MOO just as much as I did. He’s hurting like I am, but trying to stay strong for me. I appreciate it and hate myself at the same time for somehow making him think he can’t grieve openly.
That’s my tale of the day, folks. How does it relate to my pregnancy woes? It doesn’t. Not really, anyway. I feel like I’ve lost a family member – someone who I cared for much like I’d care for a child, I guess. All of this happened right in the middle of my 2WW as well, so I’m sure the stress will ensure I get to go for Round 6 next cycle.
I hope you’re all doing well and I’m thinking, hoping and wishing positive things for you all.