I knew this day was coming, but I can't say I knew it was coming quite this soon. Today we had our big fat cat, our Cuppy, euthanized. Cuppy was about 17 years old and she was a faithful buddy throughout. She had a terrible sarcoma on the back of her neck, at the top of the spine. It was getting quite large, and starting to bother her quite a bit. We think the cancer had also spread to other areas. She had been going downhill for weeks, but the pace quickened quite a bit in the last few days. We knew it was time to end her discomfort, instead of waiting until she was in agony. It's so hard to make that decision.
Cuppy in 1993 - I'd say this is as fat as she ever got. She looks so huge here.
Adeline drove us to the vet, while I held Cupcake in my lap - so as not to upset her with being put in the carrier. Our wonderful vet, Dr. Nero at the Cat Clinic in Danbury, CT, took us right in, even though we were disrupting his schedule. He examined her and it was quite clear that it was time. I held her in my arms while he gave her the drug that ended her life. Then Adeline and I stayed with her for quite a while. I just held her and rocked her and petted her, which was really so surreal because she was dead. But I just really didn't want to let her go. Adeline cried a bit, and we hugged and comforted each other, and finally, we left.
Below is a picture of Beezer and Cupcake. And beneath that is a picture of Sadie. Sadie is no longer with us, either. She was put to sleep, at age 16, due to the ravages of kidney failure. We really waited too long for poor Sadie. By the time I could bear to have her put down, she weighed just three pounds and was like a limp rag. She probably would have died within hours. I'm glad I didn't put Cuppy through that. Granted, she was definitely not feeling well by today, and she had lost a lot of weight, but she still purred when I scratched her ears.
And, as long as I'm having a pity party, here is a picture of our darling Emma. The sweetest little cat. So tiny. She just disappeared one day and, since we live in the country, we assumed that she had been taken by a predator. A horrible thought. She was only 12. We subsequently discovered that she had died in our basement and we have absolutely no idea what caused her death. There weren't any chemicals to get into. We can only assume there was some underlying problem, like heart disease, that took her.
Now we have just Beezer and Nola. Both wonderful cats. Let's hope they have many years left.
Above: Nola curled up with her stuffed Corgi.
By the way, the word euthanasia comes from the Greek euthanatos, meaning easy death. I like that.
Cupcake, Sadie, Emma: Rest In Peace.
Cuppy in 1993 - I'd say this is as fat as she ever got. She looks so huge here.
Adeline drove us to the vet, while I held Cupcake in my lap - so as not to upset her with being put in the carrier. Our wonderful vet, Dr. Nero at the Cat Clinic in Danbury, CT, took us right in, even though we were disrupting his schedule. He examined her and it was quite clear that it was time. I held her in my arms while he gave her the drug that ended her life. Then Adeline and I stayed with her for quite a while. I just held her and rocked her and petted her, which was really so surreal because she was dead. But I just really didn't want to let her go. Adeline cried a bit, and we hugged and comforted each other, and finally, we left.
Below is a picture of Beezer and Cupcake. And beneath that is a picture of Sadie. Sadie is no longer with us, either. She was put to sleep, at age 16, due to the ravages of kidney failure. We really waited too long for poor Sadie. By the time I could bear to have her put down, she weighed just three pounds and was like a limp rag. She probably would have died within hours. I'm glad I didn't put Cuppy through that. Granted, she was definitely not feeling well by today, and she had lost a lot of weight, but she still purred when I scratched her ears.
And, as long as I'm having a pity party, here is a picture of our darling Emma. The sweetest little cat. So tiny. She just disappeared one day and, since we live in the country, we assumed that she had been taken by a predator. A horrible thought. She was only 12. We subsequently discovered that she had died in our basement and we have absolutely no idea what caused her death. There weren't any chemicals to get into. We can only assume there was some underlying problem, like heart disease, that took her.
Now we have just Beezer and Nola. Both wonderful cats. Let's hope they have many years left.
Above: Nola curled up with her stuffed Corgi.By the way, the word euthanasia comes from the Greek euthanatos, meaning easy death. I like that.
Cupcake, Sadie, Emma: Rest In Peace.