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I know what you mean. I think I left my body when Dr. Lee showed me how to do it. :eek: I kept thinking "Yeah, but this is Puddy!" And you all know my first couple of tries were fiascos. But after reading the posts on PT and getting the encouragement and helpful tips that I needed, now I can do it. I just love my Puddy girl so much. I'll do anything to help her.
Thanx for all the kindness you've shown me and Puddy and all my furkids. We couldn't have done it w/out ya! :)
Blessings,
Mary
We do what we have to. I would've done the same for my Peeka back in April but her renal failure took her fast. When she became jaundiced, I knew that her liver was shutting down and that everything else would start to go. I wasn't about to keep her around for my own selfish reasons. She was so weak and wasn't eating. And she, too, purred like a little motor boat right up until the end, bless her. I'm starting to get sad, so I'll stop here.
Thanx again, friends....
Blessings,
Mary
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ingrid's dad
I totally agree with you.
Our girl had kidney cancer, she was 15. The saddest thing we ever went through. But we would have done it for however long, as long as she could stay with us. She was a fighter, but as her parents we knew it was the end,
We couldnt let her suffer anymore. It really sucked. :(
Damned straight.
We handle it as best we can. Doesn't mean we have to like it.
This is kind of a strange time for me because I'm welcoming a new cat (Matilda) into my life while I'm still letting go of Ingrid. I'm trying to do both of those as well as I can.
The saddest sight these eyes of mine have ever seen was Ingrid laid out in her pet carrier, knowing that she would never open her eyes or look up at me or lift her head again. Remembering that hits me with a real power. But at the same time, it is an image almost majestic--one that humbles me to my core--because that little black cat had conducted herself with such grace and dignity that I feel awe. Moreover, she was at peace. She wasn't going to have to put up with her creaky old joints or her marginal kidneys or her anemia or a visit to the vet's office or anything else again. She was beyond that. She had gone on before me.
I recall her eyes as bright, shining and lively. They were deep. Her irises were a lovely jade green with flecks of emerald. That memory is very important to me. Afterward, I'm so glad that her eyes were closed, because I never had to see them without the light and the curiosity and the keen intelligence of her life in them.
I had one last thing to do for her, and of course that was to lay her to rest in a fitting manner.
Even now as I re-consider Ingrid's last days, I keep coming up with the same answer: that it was just her time. We would have done anything and everything we could have to help her, as long as she was okay with it. And it's funny: As much as I hate needles, she didn't mind. She trusted me and it made her feel better, so it went all right. She was a champion. As long as she could be herself and keep her head up, we would have gone on with that routine. And as it turned out, that was not very long, because you don't beat pancreatic cancer. But if it had been years, as long as she had not suffered, then we would have kept it up for years.
[COLOR=Magenta]Don't cal yourself an incompetent boob! Denial never works, just like staring a homework never worked for me. :rolleyes: I mean, you misundersttod it, it probably was just a little normal bleeding from an IV. It happened to me a long time ago. I was in the hospital with a sub-aortic obtrucstion ( :confused: ), and when they took out the IV, my hand was bleeding all over my new pajamas! :p [/COLOR]
Double yikes! :eek: :eek: My little Puddy has to go in for more tests tomorrow. She backslid and she vomited today and is so lethargic that I'm bringing her in bed w/me tonight so that I can keep an eye on her. The fluids don't seem to be helping, so hopefully, Dr. Lee will be able to straighten things out.
Blessings,
M