I know I haven't posted on here regularly in a while. After the first few months managing Snowflake's diabetes just became part of our every day routine and, thanks to everything I learned on these boards, I had the confidence to monitor and regular her unassisted...
However, yesterday morning, after a few days of lack of appetite (I had to force feed her and give her sub q fluids, which she just hated) and weakness/loss of balance, I awoke to find that my poor sweet Snowflake, who had fought a good battle for a year and a half, was at the very end of her rope. I think she must have had a stroke overnight, as her eyes were unevenly dilated, and her left hind leg wasn't functioning (she kind of hobbled on it, with it fully extended in front of her). She could only walk a few steps at a time before lying down, and I knew she deserved peace, and that anything I or a vet could do for her would only extend her suffering. After a few calls, I made an appointment for later that day for a vet to come and do in-home euthanasia. I cuddled with her that morning, and then had to leave for work for a bit. I left work early, and had about an hour with her before the vet came. During that hour she was just barely aware, though I did get a few small curls of the tail that told me she was comfortable. She squirmed a bit, asking to be put down, so I brought her over to a sunny spot on the carpet, and she rested in the sun for her final moments. When the vet came, we were able to do the procedure with Snowflake on my lap, and she went so peacefully... The vet even made a little paw imprint with her name in it, for me to have to remember her by, and I'll get her ashes in the mail in a few weeks.
Despite the fact that I know solidly that this was the right thing to do for her, and that I've almost lost her twice before, and known this was coming, I am completely and unbearably heartbroken. I'd had her for just over 15 years (she would've been 15 and a half in October), and got her when I was only 11. I truly grew up with her, and can barely imagine a life without her in it. She was the sweetest, most adoring cat I can imagine. She would follow me all around the house, and always wanted to be in whatever room I was in. Even when I was in the shower, she'd sit in between the shower curtain and the clear shower liner, just content to be near me. Her favorite place to be was stretched out horizontally on my chest, right up on my collarbone, practically smushed in my face. She loved to have her tummy rubbed and would purr and purr and purr. She loved to be held and to be carried around. She had the sweetest little mew of a meow that was never obnoxious, always adored. She spent the majority of her life as a pleasantly plump 8lb petite little cat with the loveliest white fur and golden eyes. At the end, she was less than 5 pounds and practically skeletal, but had the best heart the whole time, and followed me around really right up to the point where she physically couldn't.
She's survived by her littermate/sister, who, thankfully is completely healthy and I hope to have for at least another few years. As much as I love her sister, I can honestly say that this little cat, Snowflake, my best little buddy, was the love of my life. I know that I will adopt more cats in the future, but she has taken a little piece of my heart with her, and my heart will never again be completely whole.
https://sphotos-b-sjc.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/249280_842916421609_1507671164_n.jpg
Hug your fur babies tightly and appreciate them while you have them, no matter how much work it is to deal with this horrible disease.
However, yesterday morning, after a few days of lack of appetite (I had to force feed her and give her sub q fluids, which she just hated) and weakness/loss of balance, I awoke to find that my poor sweet Snowflake, who had fought a good battle for a year and a half, was at the very end of her rope. I think she must have had a stroke overnight, as her eyes were unevenly dilated, and her left hind leg wasn't functioning (she kind of hobbled on it, with it fully extended in front of her). She could only walk a few steps at a time before lying down, and I knew she deserved peace, and that anything I or a vet could do for her would only extend her suffering. After a few calls, I made an appointment for later that day for a vet to come and do in-home euthanasia. I cuddled with her that morning, and then had to leave for work for a bit. I left work early, and had about an hour with her before the vet came. During that hour she was just barely aware, though I did get a few small curls of the tail that told me she was comfortable. She squirmed a bit, asking to be put down, so I brought her over to a sunny spot on the carpet, and she rested in the sun for her final moments. When the vet came, we were able to do the procedure with Snowflake on my lap, and she went so peacefully... The vet even made a little paw imprint with her name in it, for me to have to remember her by, and I'll get her ashes in the mail in a few weeks.
Despite the fact that I know solidly that this was the right thing to do for her, and that I've almost lost her twice before, and known this was coming, I am completely and unbearably heartbroken. I'd had her for just over 15 years (she would've been 15 and a half in October), and got her when I was only 11. I truly grew up with her, and can barely imagine a life without her in it. She was the sweetest, most adoring cat I can imagine. She would follow me all around the house, and always wanted to be in whatever room I was in. Even when I was in the shower, she'd sit in between the shower curtain and the clear shower liner, just content to be near me. Her favorite place to be was stretched out horizontally on my chest, right up on my collarbone, practically smushed in my face. She loved to have her tummy rubbed and would purr and purr and purr. She loved to be held and to be carried around. She had the sweetest little mew of a meow that was never obnoxious, always adored. She spent the majority of her life as a pleasantly plump 8lb petite little cat with the loveliest white fur and golden eyes. At the end, she was less than 5 pounds and practically skeletal, but had the best heart the whole time, and followed me around really right up to the point where she physically couldn't.
She's survived by her littermate/sister, who, thankfully is completely healthy and I hope to have for at least another few years. As much as I love her sister, I can honestly say that this little cat, Snowflake, my best little buddy, was the love of my life. I know that I will adopt more cats in the future, but she has taken a little piece of my heart with her, and my heart will never again be completely whole.
https://sphotos-b-sjc.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc1/249280_842916421609_1507671164_n.jpg
Hug your fur babies tightly and appreciate them while you have them, no matter how much work it is to deal with this horrible disease.
