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It’s my turn to lean on you guys….
We’re going to have to put one of our Maine Coon cats down Friday afternoon. Turbo is just shy of his 15th birthday–August 19th–and was diagnosed with an inoperable malignant tumor in his sinuses. We’ve known this day was going come eventually, and come it has. When he was diagnosed months back, given his age and the location of the tumor we opted to keep him home and comfortable, since there was no guarentee that the surgery would be 100% successful, and the vet felt that since Turbo was an older cat, the stress would be a very real threat. Over the last couple of days, another tumor has come up in one of his salivary glands under his jaw, and he’s begun to have trouble eating and drinking. So I’ve been feeding him wet cat food mixed with his very favorite human baby food–turkey–and giving him water with a syringe. He’s been remarkably good thoughout this, taking his pills twice a day with no fuss, which really surprised me.I guess we’ve been very lucky overall, since we have so many house critters, and they’ve mostly been pretty healthy. Out of our 5 cats, 3 of them are seniors; Neige, the Turkish Angora (pound refugee) is at least 17, Turbo is almost 15, and Cayenne, our other Maine Coon boy is 14. Then there’s Lillee, our bobtailed girl at 4 and Whims the bobtailed boy at 3. And of course, our Great Pyrenees, Flurry who is 9.
There is a sort of irony in this situation; when we first got Turbo as a kitten, he came in with a nasty upper respiratory bug. He couldn’t smell his food, and if cats can’t smell it, they won’t eat it. They will literally starve to death in front of a full food dish. I spent many an hour feeding him human baby food from a spoon, and here we are now…full circle.
I don’t know which is worse; knowing it’s coming, or having to make the decision suddenly. At least this way we get to say goodbye, if there is to be a “bright side”, I suppose that would be it. I know it’s the right thing to do, and it’s definitely time–I can feel that from him, but still…..
I’ve been working from home as much as possible to make sure Turbo is comfortable, and also since I’m prone to lapsing into tears at any given moment. The other cats have been especially clingy lately. I know they’re aware of the situation, and are offering comfort in the best way they can with lots of lap time and nose kisses. We’re planning on burying Turbo next to my old barn refugee cat, Rainbo who was 19 when she died in my lap 10 years ago. I etched a slate stone for her grave, and now I have a nice piece of bluestone that I’m going to paint for Turbo. He’ll be in good company in the Summerlands–his very favorite dogs, our Dalmatians Pretzel and Buckshot and our Aussie, Cocoa will be there along with Rainbo.This just sucks so very bad…. 😥
He’s gone….George and I stayed with him to the end, and he went peacefully in our arms.
Thanks guys, for being here. We truly appreciate it.
Tawillow’s Turbo C. McTabby
August 19, 1993—July 11, 2008
In the Summerlands with friends*hugs* I’m so sorry to hear that he has to be put down. But it seems like you’re doing the right thing…and you know it’s his time, so I think that might make it easier.
Still, it’s hard. My thoughts are with you.
Im sorry about your kitty. I hope you can feel better knowing he had a good, long life. Many die on the streets before their first birthday. Sending hugs.
Oh, tasgrs, I’m so sorry 😥 It’s always hard to let our family members go. I feel it’s the supreme act of love to gently end the suffering of our fur babies when they let you know its time. Hang in there *Hugs*
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Oh, I’m so sorry! I just had to do the same thing recently with my dog…
Hugs!
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http://www.sarahjestin.com/feedbacklists.htm*hugs* I’ll never forget putting my dog down, so I know the feeling. You’re doing the right thing. *hugs*
*hugs* I know he knows how much you love him, and I know he has many comfy memories with you. I am so sorry about putting him down.
I wish I could make it better. You have my thoughts and well wishes for this sucky time.
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This is the second pet that we’ve had to put down that we knew in advance. The last one was our 6 year old Aussie, due to neurofibrosarcoma on her muzzle, also inoperable. It sucks, because I feel like the warden on death row, listening to the clock tick and knowing there won’t be a phone call from the governor. I just have this ache in the pit of my stomach…… 🙁 I go back and forth between being “okay” with it, and breaking down in tears, and usually without warning.I’m trying to take comfort in lavishing as much attention on him as I can. He’s never been the lap cat type–he’s always been Mr. Macho Cat. His opinion is that laps are for sissy cats. 😉
He also isn’t one for cat treats, unlike the rest of them. Never was one for table scraps, either. Tough guy….He’s also the only cat that was more my husband’s than mine. mostly because George doesn’t do the grooming, clipping claws, dispensing meds…..yada yada yada……I’m all too aware of the kittens that die far too young, and 2 of our cats are adoptions. I felt guilty buying a kitten knowing how many were in shelters, but the husband wanted a specific cat: a Maine Coon. And then he succumbed to the “Potato Chip Factor” and next thing I knew, we had 5 house cats, 3 long hairs and 2 mediums. Not that I’m complaining. I gave up on ever wearing fur-free clothing long ago. I look at it as being the best and most politically correct way to wear fur–while it’s still on it’s original owner and given freely to the recipient. As I sit here in the kitchen I have Cayenne on the table next to the laptop, and Whims in his usual place–under the table hoping for something edible to fall. In thinking about it, at no time lately have I been alone in this house without at least one cat immediately at hand, should I need to pet a cat. Usually they’re lounging about somewhere in the house. The evenings are normally reserved for lap times, since George and I are in the living room and more likely to sit still. I really do believe they know what’s going on, and are trying to offer comfort as best as they can. If I’m anthropomorphing on it, so be it. It works to a fair degree.
I realize that Turbo has had a good life; he’s never wanted for anything, never been out on the streets or stuck in a cage at the shelter. 14 is a respectable age. But I still feel like 14 isn’t old enough. And I know…no matter HOW long they live, it’s never enough….the curse of having pets….
I’m thankful that Turbo wasn’t an only cat. That would just make it all that much worse.Tasgrs, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I’ve never had to put a pet down (for natural causes, anyways), so I can’t empathize. I have, however, lost numerous pets, so I do know how you feel. At least you have time to say goodbye and prepare a grave for him. And he had a good life. I have never had a pet live to be 14, so in that respect, you’re very fortunate. You have my condolences.
All I can offer is my sympathy. I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this. Like you said, it doesn’t matter how long they’re with us, it’s never enough. 😥
sorry to hear your cat is so bad off , but you are being very responcible and humane to this for him. It sounds sick but i wish we could do this for humans too when the suffering gets unbearable
I’m so sorry *hugs* it just never seems long enough for our little furry babies, does it? And the others seeming to know? It’s probably because they can detect that you’re sad and stressed, and they don’t like it when you are like that, so they are trying to cheer you up. They seem quite psychic that way. Kimi and all my cats were like that when I was upset. Well, except maybe Fluff. He was more like your kitty in that regard, laps are for sissies.
I even know what it’s like waiting for your pet to die, knowing the day… I was 9 or 10 at the time, my parents told me that they were going to try to see if they could operate on a cheek tumor that Sugar had, and well, I knew she wasn’t coming home. It’s sad, but I think she knew too. She was sleeping on my bed the morning they were going to take her in, and she NEVER slept on my bed. Ever. Like she was saying goodbye or something.
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