Oh my God, when I read these stories, especially yours Kathy, it gives me shivers, and it left me close to tears. My cat, Beth, died about two or three weeks ago. I didn't mention it at the time, because I felt bad that when another member's cat died, I couldn't think of what to say and so didn't respond. But anyway, maybe I'll feel better for telling my story here.
She was about 12, which some people told me was pretty fair for a cat, and I guess it was, but at the time I was thinking of stories I'd heard about older cats and so didn't believe it. Anyway, I don't know what happened to her, but about a week or so before she died she started staying in my room all the time. Now she and I were inseperable, so she used to hang out on my bed on nearly a daily basis. She still came and went often though, and I have a strict rule that there are no animals allowed in my room at night when I'm going to bed.. This is because I like to sleep with my door shut, and there's nothing quite like the joy of waking up at 4 in the morning to the sound of scratching!
Anyway, Beth just stayed on my bed all day, only going out to eat, and I even let her stay with me at night because I felt bad for her. I got the feeling that there was something wrong with her, but my mom laughed it off as her just loving to be with me, and told me Beth still came out to spend some time with her and the dog every morning as Mom was getting ready for work. I felt better, but pretty soon Beth stopped leaving the room for food. She stopped moving around within my room as much too, and mostly just lay in one place. The weekend before she died, we had plans to go to see my aunt in Delaware. As one might expect, I didn't feel right about leaving her, (funny how pet owners just know these things even if they don't want to admit it, isn't it?). Anyway, when we got back, we found that she had thrown up on my bed, even though I had left the door open.
It was all down-hill from there. We put a pillow on the floor for her, even though she seemingly preferred the floor itself, which kind of disturbed me. I think by the end, she didn't even have strength to pull herself onto the pillow from the ground. Anyway, at one point during that night, she still wasn't at her worst yet, and she sought refuge on the bottom levil of my bookcase. Even though it was obviously a tense and upsetting night for me, I was amused by that. Anyway, as I said she wasn't using her pillow much, so I again picked her up and put her on my bed. The next morning she could hardly move at all. I may not have known what was wrong with her, but whatever it was it seemed to be affecting one or both of her back legs, because every time I would touch that area, she would cry. Now I don't mean a normal miow, but rather a long, drawn out, high-pitched and heart-rendering cry! I tried to make her more comfortable, but I think I only made her worse!
Anyway, this next part is the part I feel really bad about, especially after reading some of your stories about things you did for your pets. I was a wimp! I have a history of not handling delicate situations such as others' depression, serious illness or death very well. So true to fashion, I spent most of that day in the livingroom watching TV, while my cat llay on the floor in my room. I guess I was trying to distance myself from her, but from the look of it, you would never have guessed how close we had been all her life!
Anyway, that was my first night of class for this schoolterm, and when I got home I couldn't even bring myself to go in my room which I normally would. Mom did though, and she told me that Beth had died.
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