Yikes! Has anyone ever done this?

[Medusa]

Wow! Thanx for that! Puddy was doing so well that she was getting the juice every 5 days but in the last day or so, she backslid a little, so now she's on every other day again. She lost some weight and was looking scruffy, so I knew something was up. But I think I caught it in time. If not, off to Dr. Lee we go! But I just gave her the SQ fluids a few min. ago and she was as quiet as a church mouse and as still as can be. She already seems to have more energy. She just now jumped up onto my chair as I'm typing this and now she's walking around on my desk, surveying, making sure I'm caught up on all my work.

Thanx again for your kind words. It means so much to Pud and me.

Blessings,
Mary

[Ingrid's dad]

As long as they are willing to tolerate it, whatever a cat needs is what they get. I don't think anybody likes needles, but if the cat says okay and it helps them feel better, that's the way to go.

[just me]

Just want to HIGH FIVE, Medusa.
Your baby is very lucky to have you.
Its a learning experience, I wish I knew of Pet Talk back when I had to
do this for my Patience, I got a 5 minuet show from our vet and was sent
home to basically learn by myself. Pet Talk would have helped so much.
Long story short We did it together. We were able to share 32 precious days
together at home before she passed. She never complained even when I had to jab her more then once.
Best wishes to you, and your baby.

[Ingrid's dad]

Hey, Just Me--

Yeah, I'm afraid Ingrid & I didn't have to cooperate on the juices that long, but it made her last couple of days at home much easier for her, and she amazed me by purring as the stuff flowed in. She was really, really good.

If she had had any reasonable expectation of any real quality of life later, we would have done the juices as long as she needed, no matter how long. But the pancreatic cancer explained why she was neither eating nor drinking on her own, and that sealed it.

[just me]

Hey, Just Me--

Yeah, I'm afraid Ingrid & I didn't have to cooperate on the juices that long, but it made her last couple of days at home much easier for her, and she amazed me by purring as the stuff flowed in. She was really, really good.

If she had had any reasonable expectation of any real quality of life later, we would have done the juices as long as she needed, no matter how long. But the pancreatic cancer explained why she was neither eating nor drinking on her own, and that sealed it.

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.

[Ingrid's dad]

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.

[Medusa]

I know what you mean. I think I left my body when Dr. Lee showed me how to do it. 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

[Medusa]

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