Goodbye is Never Easy - 3 Lessons Learned From Cat Grief

Saying goodbye to a beloved pet is not an easy decision to make.

It is the last thing on your mind when you enter into this relationship. However as the years go by, animals with chronic illnesses create a dilemma - their best interests to reduce suffering versus hope our pet will beat the odds. I don’t have all the answers here, but upon reflection, the three cats I have lost provide three lessons.

Lesson 1: The First One is Hard.

Slurpy was your quintessential lap cat - there was no place he would rather be. He was such a loving cat and that made it hard when was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease three years after we took him in. He would not eat the prescribed kidney diet and we decided to make him as comfortable as possible using various medications and subcutaneous fluids to reduce the build-up of toxic substances in his blood.

All of this worked until it did not seven months later. We took Slurpy to our vet, Dr. Susan McConnell, after an extended bout of poor eating and excessive lethargic behavior. She noted his blood work was not good and he looked very unkempt. She started broaching the topic of euthanizing Slurpy which I shut down immediately. I needed to say goodbye - I could not do that in this sterile environment.

We made an appointment to euthanize him the following morning. My husband and I spent the evening doing things Slurpy liked to do in the past - favorite foods, lap time, and laying curled up by the fire. I held him in my arms and toured his favorite spots outside singing to him “You Are My Sunshine”. I needed this, he probably did not.

Lesson 2: Plan Ahead.

Splashes was battling serious disorders for 5 years. You would think my husband and I would have an end-of-life plan for our beloved cat. Having been diagnosed with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, he had a serious risk of developing blood clots. He fought everything that came his way - he was invincible in our eyes.

Until he was not. I came home late on a Friday and Splashes did not meet me as quickly as usual. I found him climbing the stairs dragging his back legs. I was hoping he tore his ACL again, but I feared a Saddle Thrombosis which is a blood clot that lodges at the base of the blood vessels that feed the legs and can cause paralysis. Quick management can sometimes restore some function in these animals, but more often the prognosis is not good.

I rushed Splashes to the vet as she was closing and my husband rushed from work. Due to the weak pulse and coldness in his legs, the saddle thrombosis was confirmed. Dr. McConnell started discussing the options, which included euthanasia - when the unexpected happened.

My husband fainted - he had not eaten all day - and initially, I couldn't see him breathing. As my vet springs into action, my husband gasps for breath. Splashes is on the table, my husband is on the floor, and the ambulance is coming to assist. How do you make an end-of-life decision at that moment if you have not considered it previously like we should have due to Splashes’ health history?

Splashes was such a fighter so we erred on the side of caution. The vet tech, Beth, took him to the Emergency Clinic as our vet was closing. I took care of my husband. We visited him the next day and Splashes lifted his head while in the oxygen chamber - he knew we were there. We made a decision we now regret - we left Splashes there hoping he would make it to Monday to discuss it with our vet. The details are now blurry, but we returned the next day to take him home. He died within an hour - enough time to say a brief goodbye. Our vet tried to get to our house in time to put him to sleep. She did not make it, but Susan spent an hour with us listening to stories of Splashes - many of which she participated in. I can’t tell you how helpful that was to us.

Lesson 3: Celebrate Their Life, Not Their Loss.

Tuxedo, my FIV+ cat, developed renal failure unexpectedly 10 years after we took him in. After an extended loss of appetite, our vet did blood work showing poor kidney values. We gave him subcutaneous fluids over a three-day period to flush his kidneys. He still was not eating, so we expected the worst. After 3 days, Tuxedo’s blood work showed his values were much worse, so we made plans to put him to sleep the next day. To honor my little man, I went to the nail salon to have my nails done in the black and white pattern of his paw pads - try explaining that to the manicurist.

Tuxedo was a feral cat prior to being rescued. Once he got his FIV diagnosis he did not go outside except for supervised deck outings. However after his initial blood work was done, we spent all the time we could with him outside that weekend - on our deck and out in the yard. Sometimes he just laid on the deck, sometimes he went on supervised adventures. Tuxedo was happy outside and I captured these treasured moments on camera and turned them into the video below.

At about 6 am on his last day, Tuxedo came to me, meowed, and then sat by the door to go outside. He perked up immediately once outside. We remained outside until Susan came to put him down peacefully. I wanted his last memory to be outdoors with the people who loved him. We held him, I sang to him, we told stories about him and he was gone. We finally did it right.

End-of-life decisions are never perfect and likely will make you feel guilty.

To this day I have much guilt about how we handled the end of Splashes’ cherished life. We should have been better prepared. We love these furry creatures - they are family. All we can do is make the best objective decisions we can, looking at their quality of life by examining the following: eating and drinking, litter box use, pain levels, mobility, grooming, and behaviors. Ultimately are they happy? If most days they are not, it is time to let them go.

Please share any end-of-life decisions or how you handled the last days of your beloved pet in the comment section - it really can help. My next blog will examine adopting senior and special needs cats. These animals deserve our love as well.