Susan D
Member
Dear friends and your beloved felines,
This past week, I lost my little boy Sasha after nearly 16 years of an amazing life together. As of early July, it would have been six years that he had lived with diabetes. Most of that time Sasha did wonderfully, until late last autumn when he was diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis. Even since then, he has rebounded at times when I didn't think it was possible. He was so brave and had such incredible spirit. Now he joins his brother Orlando, whom I lost in January.
I am posting a message very similar to what I wrote to the Yahoo Feline Pancreatitis Support Group: I lost my beloved little boy Sasha on Sunday, after I made the excruciating decision to have him put to sleep. As I had written on this forum last week, he had a urine reading of elevated "moderate" ketones a week ago Tuesday, which I worked like anything to help him clear. I appreciate the immense help I received here.
I thought that I was succeeding when he had first a "small" and then "trace" amount on Thursday evening. However, he continued to be "off," exhibiting no appetite and remaining lethargic. I kept assist feeding him; giving him meds, supplements, and his daily fluids; checking his BG; and doing what I could. I brought him into his regular vet, who did bloodwork but offered very little advice. (This made me feel very frustrated.) She also understood that I did not want to put Sasha through any more lengthy hospitalizations nor could I afford it. He had gone through several hospital stays in recent months, and I paired that with the proactive home care and consultations with a holistic vet I was doing.
He seemed to be rebounding here and there but on Saturday he looked worse and I took Sasha to the animal emergency clinic in Kingston, N.Y., here in the Hudson Valley, which has excellent vets. Their bloodwork showed he was suffering liver failure in addition to several other critical issues (potassium <2, anemia, etc.) The vet started immediate IV fluid support, but her overall prognosis was very bad. And I consulted with his regular vet, who said he would likely need at least 6 to 7 days in the hospital. I cannot afford this treatment, but more than that, I felt instinctively that my little boy had given it everything and I could not put him through this hardship.
Overnight into the early morning hours of Sunday, I made the decision to let him go. On Sunday morning, Sasha was, indeed, a bit better. The clinic set up a separate room where I could be with him for several hours, and I just stroked him, talked to him, and stayed near to him. He purred the entire time. Mid-afternoon, the vet helped to release him, and I held him close as he made the passage to be with Orlando, who lived to be 16 and a half years old. I had both kitties since they were babies.
I don't know what to say and yet feel like I could write a book here. This has been an odyssey with Sasha, in which he showed such an amazing
spirit each day to live with diabetes and in recent months to rebound I don't know how many times. I loved every day of my nearly 16 years with him. He was the most affectionate, funny, and sweet boy, and I am devastated at losing him and his brother within months of each other.
I kept a journal every day of his treatments, insulin injections, blood glucose readings, holistic supports, meals, fluids, and everything else related, in addition to writing a couple paragraphs in the morning of my impressions. Most days I could rejoice in how well he was doing, and I felt so blessed for that. He had a lot of energy, played, purred, enjoyed his favorite places, and trotted around. Wow. On the other days, we hung in there, and I tried to help him get over the hump that day.
I am grateful, even in this loss, for so much -- to the members of the FDMB forum and the Yahoo Feline Pancreatitis Support Group, because last December and January, I was ready to give up -- and in fact, one vet at the regular practice one dreary day in January pretty much advised me to do so. I learned so much from kind friends here.
During this time, I felt my bond with Sasha grew only deeper, more intimate, and more amazing. He kept teaching me to appreciate each day
and to know I was doing my best for him, even though I would turn questions over and over (enough fluids? which potassium supplement after
his IV treatments? how is he responding to the buprenex? which grain-free food is best for him? how can I get this feline Whole Body Support into him today? etc.). If I was away from home, working in the city or out for a walk or whatever, I was thinking about him. You all know how intense and intimate this bond is.
We share so much knowledge, but it's also wonderful to share those special moments (countless!) our kitties give to us. I can still see him
trotting down the hall just as recently as last week. I envision his head bobbing in that Sasha way as he sat in his bed and looked around. I
loved his insistent little meow at 5 in the morning...time for breakfast. At one time in our New York City apartment, he used to hop up and sit
comfortably in the lasagna dish on top of the shelf in our kitchen, looking down upon all. "Do you think Sasha is getting too big?" I asked a friend. "Only if he can't fit in his lasagna dish," she said.
He purred and purred so much during all of this days, and I shall never forget them and especially recall that last day. I believe I especially
heard a trilling purr when I said, "now you're going to be able to roam free with your brother."
That is how I picture them...somewhere there in the spirits world, where someday I hope and plan to join them and their predecessor kitty Quinton and pooch Brandy. A friend from high school has written and delivered a sermon on whether animals have souls (yes, I believe), and now it's time to read what I didn't have time to read these past several months.
In a life rich with love, Sasha and Orlando have been in some ways the dearest friends of my life and certainly my children, and what a gift
that has been. I am going to look at the stars to see them, hear them in the birdsong, and see them in the faces of other kitties. I miss them so much, but I had their companionship for nearly 16 years and 16 and a half years, respectively. Such a blessing and exquisite gift!
I take to heart Kahlil Gibran's words, "When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." My delight, my Sasha, I love you, and I love your brother Orlando!
I'm going to remain online to contribute what I can, though not as often, but maybe something I learned can help someone else who comes to
the board so overwhelmed and scared. I feel so grateful for the generosity and incredible knowledge base of this group and the FPS members, too. Thank you!
I'm missing my Sasha today and yet I am picturing him roaming free with his beloved brother.
Susan, for my Angels Sasha and Orlando
This past week, I lost my little boy Sasha after nearly 16 years of an amazing life together. As of early July, it would have been six years that he had lived with diabetes. Most of that time Sasha did wonderfully, until late last autumn when he was diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis. Even since then, he has rebounded at times when I didn't think it was possible. He was so brave and had such incredible spirit. Now he joins his brother Orlando, whom I lost in January.
I am posting a message very similar to what I wrote to the Yahoo Feline Pancreatitis Support Group: I lost my beloved little boy Sasha on Sunday, after I made the excruciating decision to have him put to sleep. As I had written on this forum last week, he had a urine reading of elevated "moderate" ketones a week ago Tuesday, which I worked like anything to help him clear. I appreciate the immense help I received here.
I thought that I was succeeding when he had first a "small" and then "trace" amount on Thursday evening. However, he continued to be "off," exhibiting no appetite and remaining lethargic. I kept assist feeding him; giving him meds, supplements, and his daily fluids; checking his BG; and doing what I could. I brought him into his regular vet, who did bloodwork but offered very little advice. (This made me feel very frustrated.) She also understood that I did not want to put Sasha through any more lengthy hospitalizations nor could I afford it. He had gone through several hospital stays in recent months, and I paired that with the proactive home care and consultations with a holistic vet I was doing.
He seemed to be rebounding here and there but on Saturday he looked worse and I took Sasha to the animal emergency clinic in Kingston, N.Y., here in the Hudson Valley, which has excellent vets. Their bloodwork showed he was suffering liver failure in addition to several other critical issues (potassium <2, anemia, etc.) The vet started immediate IV fluid support, but her overall prognosis was very bad. And I consulted with his regular vet, who said he would likely need at least 6 to 7 days in the hospital. I cannot afford this treatment, but more than that, I felt instinctively that my little boy had given it everything and I could not put him through this hardship.
Overnight into the early morning hours of Sunday, I made the decision to let him go. On Sunday morning, Sasha was, indeed, a bit better. The clinic set up a separate room where I could be with him for several hours, and I just stroked him, talked to him, and stayed near to him. He purred the entire time. Mid-afternoon, the vet helped to release him, and I held him close as he made the passage to be with Orlando, who lived to be 16 and a half years old. I had both kitties since they were babies.
I don't know what to say and yet feel like I could write a book here. This has been an odyssey with Sasha, in which he showed such an amazing
spirit each day to live with diabetes and in recent months to rebound I don't know how many times. I loved every day of my nearly 16 years with him. He was the most affectionate, funny, and sweet boy, and I am devastated at losing him and his brother within months of each other.
I kept a journal every day of his treatments, insulin injections, blood glucose readings, holistic supports, meals, fluids, and everything else related, in addition to writing a couple paragraphs in the morning of my impressions. Most days I could rejoice in how well he was doing, and I felt so blessed for that. He had a lot of energy, played, purred, enjoyed his favorite places, and trotted around. Wow. On the other days, we hung in there, and I tried to help him get over the hump that day.
I am grateful, even in this loss, for so much -- to the members of the FDMB forum and the Yahoo Feline Pancreatitis Support Group, because last December and January, I was ready to give up -- and in fact, one vet at the regular practice one dreary day in January pretty much advised me to do so. I learned so much from kind friends here.
During this time, I felt my bond with Sasha grew only deeper, more intimate, and more amazing. He kept teaching me to appreciate each day
and to know I was doing my best for him, even though I would turn questions over and over (enough fluids? which potassium supplement after
his IV treatments? how is he responding to the buprenex? which grain-free food is best for him? how can I get this feline Whole Body Support into him today? etc.). If I was away from home, working in the city or out for a walk or whatever, I was thinking about him. You all know how intense and intimate this bond is.
We share so much knowledge, but it's also wonderful to share those special moments (countless!) our kitties give to us. I can still see him
trotting down the hall just as recently as last week. I envision his head bobbing in that Sasha way as he sat in his bed and looked around. I
loved his insistent little meow at 5 in the morning...time for breakfast. At one time in our New York City apartment, he used to hop up and sit
comfortably in the lasagna dish on top of the shelf in our kitchen, looking down upon all. "Do you think Sasha is getting too big?" I asked a friend. "Only if he can't fit in his lasagna dish," she said.
He purred and purred so much during all of this days, and I shall never forget them and especially recall that last day. I believe I especially
heard a trilling purr when I said, "now you're going to be able to roam free with your brother."
That is how I picture them...somewhere there in the spirits world, where someday I hope and plan to join them and their predecessor kitty Quinton and pooch Brandy. A friend from high school has written and delivered a sermon on whether animals have souls (yes, I believe), and now it's time to read what I didn't have time to read these past several months.
In a life rich with love, Sasha and Orlando have been in some ways the dearest friends of my life and certainly my children, and what a gift
that has been. I am going to look at the stars to see them, hear them in the birdsong, and see them in the faces of other kitties. I miss them so much, but I had their companionship for nearly 16 years and 16 and a half years, respectively. Such a blessing and exquisite gift!
I take to heart Kahlil Gibran's words, "When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." My delight, my Sasha, I love you, and I love your brother Orlando!
I'm going to remain online to contribute what I can, though not as often, but maybe something I learned can help someone else who comes to
the board so overwhelmed and scared. I feel so grateful for the generosity and incredible knowledge base of this group and the FPS members, too. Thank you!
I'm missing my Sasha today and yet I am picturing him roaming free with his beloved brother.
Susan, for my Angels Sasha and Orlando
