How do you know when to say goodbye?
...
My beloved kitty Niobe is very ill, indeed. As a result of her kidney disease, she has poor muscular control, and is having great difficulty walking. Her gum infection has gotten much worse. She often seems confused. She's peeing all over the place. (To be honest, Niobe has always been a bit clumsy, short on brains and a naughty little pisser. However, things have gotten much worse.)
Niobe is also spending the bulk of her time hanging out with Robb and me. Robb spends quite a large amount of every day laying down, and Niobe is constantly cuddled up with him.
I have been struggling with what to do. On one hand, I don't want her to suffer, and I believe in euthanasia. But I cannot come to terms with scheduling the appointment to end her life. People always say "you'll know when the time comes." But I'm finding that I disagree with that.
I don't know what the tipping point is. She is very old and frail, but she's also a little love machine, purring all the time. And she's the feline love of my life.
Robb and I have lost several cats over the years, but we never actively put one to sleep. We had an appointment to do that for Biesche, when her cancer metastasized, but she passed away the morning that we were going to take her to the vet. When we took Paetra in for exploratory surgery for her cancer, we told the vet that if things were found to be too far gone, that they should let her go. And that's what happened. There were no decisions made with Mister Firdusi. He just fell over dead last month.
This long, lingering illness is so difficult for me, because I can't decide if I'm letting her continue on for the wrong reasons. Am I doing this for my cat because she's still happy, or for myself, because I can't bear to lose her? This morning I thought, perhaps the answer is not to use euthanasia at all. Perhaps I need to think in terms of home hospice. But now I'm not sure.
How does one know what to do? How does one know when to do it?
UPDATE:
The time has come. Niobe twitched involuntarily all night, and the smell of the infections in her mouth made the entire bedroom stink. (If this kept me and Robb from sleeping, imagine what it must be like for poor Niobe.) She's too weak to make it to the litter box, much of the time.
I think it is time to let her go. But of course I'm crying as I type these words.
FURTHER UPDATE:
Robb just scheduled the appointment for 5:30 tonight, and was crying when he called to tell me that.
My beloved kitty Niobe is very ill, indeed. As a result of her kidney disease, she has poor muscular control, and is having great difficulty walking. Her gum infection has gotten much worse. She often seems confused. She's peeing all over the place. (To be honest, Niobe has always been a bit clumsy, short on brains and a naughty little pisser. However, things have gotten much worse.)
Niobe is also spending the bulk of her time hanging out with Robb and me. Robb spends quite a large amount of every day laying down, and Niobe is constantly cuddled up with him.
I have been struggling with what to do. On one hand, I don't want her to suffer, and I believe in euthanasia. But I cannot come to terms with scheduling the appointment to end her life. People always say "you'll know when the time comes." But I'm finding that I disagree with that.
I don't know what the tipping point is. She is very old and frail, but she's also a little love machine, purring all the time. And she's the feline love of my life.
Robb and I have lost several cats over the years, but we never actively put one to sleep. We had an appointment to do that for Biesche, when her cancer metastasized, but she passed away the morning that we were going to take her to the vet. When we took Paetra in for exploratory surgery for her cancer, we told the vet that if things were found to be too far gone, that they should let her go. And that's what happened. There were no decisions made with Mister Firdusi. He just fell over dead last month.
This long, lingering illness is so difficult for me, because I can't decide if I'm letting her continue on for the wrong reasons. Am I doing this for my cat because she's still happy, or for myself, because I can't bear to lose her? This morning I thought, perhaps the answer is not to use euthanasia at all. Perhaps I need to think in terms of home hospice. But now I'm not sure.
How does one know what to do? How does one know when to do it?
UPDATE:
The time has come. Niobe twitched involuntarily all night, and the smell of the infections in her mouth made the entire bedroom stink. (If this kept me and Robb from sleeping, imagine what it must be like for poor Niobe.) She's too weak to make it to the litter box, much of the time.
I think it is time to let her go. But of course I'm crying as I type these words.
FURTHER UPDATE:
Robb just scheduled the appointment for 5:30 tonight, and was crying when he called to tell me that.
Comments
I, too, went through the period of self-doubt: was I resisting euthanasia because I couldn't say goodbye, or was he really still okay? He would purr and purr if you so much as looked at him, so it was hard to tell what was a good day and what wasn't. He had lip cancers, which our vet said indicated a systemic cancer—advanced and virtually impossible to cure. He couldn't eat well at all, couldn't see well, either, and was stiff and slow.
Finally it came to where he couldn't really get to the places he wanted to be, wouldn't follow us around anymore, and I took that as a sign that he was having more bad days than good, and we had him put to sleep. I don't regret that decision, but I miss him a lot, even now with Dash and Sparks in our lives.
It's such an individual decision, and no one can tell you right from wrong on it. I wish the three of you the best on this final part of your journey together.
-AG
Be sure you and Robb give yourselves time to say goodby, then time to mourn. Perhaps as you welcome a New Year you will want to welcome a new little one to love, be it bird, cat, or tortoise. Hugs for all three of you.
Susie of Grumpy Grinch
xoxoxo,
Martha
I don't regret our deliberation and hesitancy. People told me the same thing: "They'll tell you when it's time." Well, he didn't tell us until the moment that he left. Perhaps your girl is the same.
Whatever your decision is, and whenever it comes, I wish you all the strength in the world. And peace.
Craftymouse
One day, I couldn't find him all morning...there he was in the basement lying on his side with his head up, panting. I carried him upsairs knowing something was wrong...and he glently climbed down from the chair and returned to the basement. Wouldn't come to me, wouldn't look at me. Something was very wrong.
What I might be trying to say is...I'm sick to death to know that he suffered. I let that happen...and I wish I had taken him in to Dr. Brian when I had that feeling that something was wrong. It was an enlarged heart condition that was not preventable, and at the end there, he had had a heart attack. Maybe if I had taken action at the point when I "wasn't sure" he may have avoided pain and suffering.
Individual decision indeed...and here I only offer my own experience.
My best to you, and know that whatever you decide, your sweet kitty will know you loved her with all your heart.
Mrs. Doglvrs
5:30 your time is 8:30 here. I'll be thinking of you. It is so hard.
Hugs to both of you,
Knit Wit
You are in our thoughts.
Sending all our love your way!
Love, Team Springamajack
-Mark
While there's not much that can take away the sorrow or ease the pain of the past few days/weeks and your difficult decision, I hope the knowledge that you gave Niobe the gift of freedom from her struggle and pain - putting her needs and comfort above all else, as true love is inclined to do - can be a solace to you in your grief. She was a lucky little girl to have found you here on the streets of Baltimore and to have spent so long a time in your loving care. I'm certain there's a special poster of you both up in kitty heaven. . . .
Love and hugs to you
It is never easy to make The Decision to put your friend to sleep. Take comfort in the fact that you could help end her suffering. She is waiting for you over the Rainbow Bridge.
Take time to mourn and know that we are thinking of you.
Love from Bookworm
At least she was warm, and died on a soft bed with people she loved. It was a lot easier than my former cat who yowled for 2 weeks, while we kept waiting for the medicine to work (which of course it didn't).
Your kitty may not make it to 5 pm today, but just keep her with you all the time you can, and she will be happy. They are not hung up on dying, they just want to enjoy what they have left to them. When it gets too bad to continue, you have to be responsible and help them to be peaceful, and not suffer. Our Sasha kitty made it easier on us by just dying outright, and we knew the time was coming. I'm sorry for what you guys have been going through with your kitties lately, but you have to admit, you gave them a pretty good, adventurous life as well as a stable one, for many years. Most cats can't say that about their lives, if they could magically speak english to us.
Our thoughts are with you, Annalisa and Gary
---mel
I still miss my Kitty, she died in hubby's arms after battling liver troubles for over a year and hyperthyroid before that. We scheduled her last appointment after we found her that morning wedged in a hiding place and semi-concious. She passed on before that time. Unfortunately that was on the most recent presidental election day, and the irony wasn't lost on us. We still think of her often. I've created a clock that has pics of our two cats in action and sleeping poses (with room for more). We still have her ashes as we want to plant them someplace where we can visit and keep nearby.
Lots of love and support to you both.
Cozycats
Even if you're skeptical, I would recommend talking with an animal communicator. I've been working with one for the past 2 years, and it's been amazing. There are many posts here that say our animals cannot speak to us, but it is possible. Granted, I'm sure there are lots of phonies out there, but if you need a reputable person, please contact me. (or anyone reading this who is interested)
For anyone else going through this awful time, it is possible to work with your companion animal to give you a sign when s/he is ready. And even after our lil loved ones have passed, it may be comforting to know they are ok, and that you made the right decision.
Please take care - my thoughts are with you.
Team Emerson