6 months later...

 

No one really acknowledges the long-term anguish that can come when you lose a furry loved one.  The fact that 6 months has already passed astonishes me since it feels like yesterday that Roy was with me.  It also feels like I haven’t been able to hold him for eternity.  The emotional toll of not having Roy fill my life is always unraveling and I still cannot talk about him without crying.  Even writing this is an incredible challenge.

When Roy first died, I was in shock and had trouble fully comprehending he was gone.  Immediately after, my other cat Loki was diagnosed with early stage kidney disease and then I was leaving for Florida for an internship.  I was leaving everything that reminded me of Roy behind, except for the small tin that contained his ashes.  They came along for the ride.

In Florida, I was also pretty busy, but mostly the lack of privacy stopped me from really processing my loss further.  I was sharing a 2-bedroom apartment with 5 others and there was no time to myself.  Although there were times I would cry in my car, or alone on the beach, I mostly kept the emotions hidden inside me.

One my 3-week road trip home, I was too distracted by the beauty of nature and the intrigue of new areas.   I was living in an amazing time where I felt truly alive and experiencing the world in a new way.  I was having too much personal growth to allow sorrow to interfere.

If Roy was not on my shoulder, he was sitting on my side like a Koala Bear.  So cute!

But then I got home.  The empty apartment was just a reminder of what was missing- Roy’s meows and cuddles and mischief.  Every time I went to the grocery store and saw corn I was holding back tears (and it’s corn season).  I was alone and not distracted and it felt awful.  

I really miss him.  And thinking back, I can’t help to question if I ended his life too soon.  I need to constantly look through photos of his life towards the end to remind myself that he was in pain.  Roy’s last day was a good one, which is many ways is great.  It’s better to go out on a positive note, right?  But that is also where the questioning comes in, because there is no clear answer to when the time is right.  If there is no questioning, you probably waited too long.  I read somewhere that looking back on the decision of euthanasia, no one ever says they did it too early, just too late.  Unfortunately that is not always true.

The other day marked 6 months since I lost Roy.  The reality of it all hit me hard and hasn’t left.  I am trying to remember to celebrate the life I had with him, and re-read this blog post about him and am watching my videos of him eating corn. There is no getting over this- just moving on and remembering his spirit.  I am sure years from now I will still laugh at his antics and cry from missing him.  I am sure I will always wonder if my decision was a good one, but that is the unbearable consequence about being responsible for another’s life and loving them so completely.

I wanted to write about this so others going through such loss can know that it completely normal.  Many of my friends recently lost animals and are struggling to move on.  It is also important for family and friends to support those who animal died, including weeks and months past the immediate loss. So often people suffer in silence with their loss, and it is difficult when people don’t recognize the pain that can continue.  Usually this loss hits weeks to months later, when most people would not think about asking if you are okay.  I don’t know all the answers since I am still trying to figure out how to move past the heavy feelings of loss to simply celebrating my time with Roy, but I am appreciative of the few people in my life that have been supportive and understanding.  

Roy' paw prints, taken a few months before he died.  I plan to get a version of this tattooed on my left shoulder blade- where he would often have his paws while cuddling on my shoulder.

Part 2: My cat used to nap in a tree!

I have never met a cat with so much personality and problems as Roy.  He almost died the first month I adopted him from a humane society at about 3 years old.  He was lethargic and looking pathetic, so I took him to the vet.  Turns out he had a urinary tract infection and another day without treatment would have killed him. It was becoming a chronic problem, but then I realized his special diet due to allergies was actually causing it.  

 

Roy was a super odd cat, as he was allergic to most meat.  I tried all the specialty diets, but Roy refused to eat them all.  So I special ordered a vegan cat food with taurine just in case.  When it arrived, Roy was so tired of all his food options that he tore into the partially opened box and into the bag of food.  I guess he approved!  He ate this until his last year of life, when he suddenly decided he didn’t like it.  Luckily more options were available that he could eat at that time.

 

Roy hated other cats. I remember after getting approved to adopt Roy, I got him out of his cage and for the first time he could see the other cats around him and he hissed.  In my head I thought, “uh, oh”, but I had already fallen in love. I think he needed to be the focus of everyone’s attention and other cats compromised that.  My poor cat Loki was sometimes bullied, but they found a way to live with each other.  They never became friends though.  Loki became depressed when Roy passed away which took me by surprise.  

 

Roy also demanded to get his way.  He was a challenge to love at times, due to his showing anger at you with peeing on stuff.  It was a constant struggle to figure out ways to stop it.  There were even a few times he peed on me as well!  Luckily the last few years of his life this stopped, but it was the only thing about him that made me want to scream and cry.

 

One thing Roy was great at was getting in trouble.  I think it was mostly because he was such a curious cat. He even managed to get a thorn stuck in his eyeball!  I was so worried about him and had to take him to a specialist for surgery to remove it.  It cost about a grand, which I did not have, so luckily my parents were able to help me out and knew how much Roy meant to me.  

But no amount of trouble, or pee or attitude outweighed the laughs and love I got from Roy.  I have never met a cat so needing of attention.  He would often lie on my left shoulder and would just purr.  And it had to be my left shoulder.  If I tried to put him on my right shoulder, he would switch over right away.  The right shoulder just would not do.  He would also sometimes sit on my left side, kind of like a koala bear.  I would hold him there, and he would hold onto me and it was just adorable.  I could tell if Roy was extra happy I was home because when I picked him up, instead of just being on my shoulder, he would wrap himself around the back of my neck.  I really miss that.

Whenever I got home, Roy was at the door greeting me with a loud meow.  He was quite vocal!  I remember a time he saw another cat out of the window and screamed really loud like a little girl.  He meowed when he wanted to go outside, or when he wanted in, or when he wanted more food or water, or in the car, or when he wanted attention or when he wanted to tell Loki to go away or when he wanted to tell me something I could not understand.  

 

Recently I was in the vet office with Loki.  A women came in with her cat in a carrier and he was meowing over and over again, just like Roy used to do.  I smiled with fondness thinking about Roy and asked the woman about her cat.  I told her how I know it is annoying now, but won’t seem so thinking back on it. I never thought I would miss that about Roy!  

 

For a short period of time, I found myself living at my parent’s house.  One day I came home from work and as I walked towards the yard, I heard Roy’s distant meow but I could not figure out where it was coming from.  I looked all a round and kept hearing him meow.  I then heard some branches move, and looked up across the street to my neighbor’s yard and found Roy starting to climb down the tree.  Turns out, this was his hang out in the neighborhood.  After that, I would often come home and find him nestled up the tree napping.  What a wacko!  I loved it!

 

Another unique characteristic of Roy is his love for corn.  A friend had taught me how awesome eating corn raw is.  So I was partaking in the great treat and Roy was frantic to get at it.  Frantic!  He was swiping at the cob of corn and meowing like crazy.  I handed it over to him and he went to town.  He could eat a whole cob of corn within 15 minutes.  It became my party trick.  I would get the corn out and show him, and he would get so excited.  I would start to peel back the corn stalk and he’d rub against the corn, cause he loved it so much.  After he was done loving on it, he would start to dig in.  By the time he was done, the corn was mostly gone and his mouth and feet were wet from the juice of the corn kernels popping open from his bites.  It was a precious sight.  

This does not even begin to describe how amazing Roy was and how much I loved him.  I could tell you more stories about him breaking into people’s apartments to eat their food, or other trouble he got into, but people who met Roy even for a moment knew he was a special character.  I am not sure how I will go on without his love.  It kept me really strong.  But obviously I will.  I will never forget him, and his memories will always bring me joy.  If you have any to share, I would love to hear it.

  

 

Part 1: The end of a life

 

I am not even sure how to begin to talk about Roy. I will say that losing him has been impossible. Roy was euthanized a little over a week ago. It was the single most difficult decision in my life. He was not the classic case of not eating, immobile, or hiding. The day it happened he asked to go outside and enjoyed the sun, tried to spray on some bushes, and thought about sneaking in an open window. He had moments where he would purr madly on my shoulder or forcefully meow asking for something. 

Unfortunately most of his time he was in discomfort, constantly moving about trying to find a position he could find comfort in. He was on pain meds, first once a day, then all the time. He would sometimes stare off in the distance, dead in his eyes, but awake. I need to say these things to remind myself of their truth, because once you follow through on that decision, every part of you just wants them back in your arms. So you question your decision and forget the reality of the situation. 

Almost a year ago, I noticed Roy was losing a lot of weight and spent a considerable amount of time in a bookshelf cubbyhole near a heating vent. A vet eventually diagnosed him with an abdominal mass. Surgery was not an option, so I started Roy on steroids. Luckily the steroids seemed to keep the growth at bay and he gained his weight and strength. He was doing great for a really long time! Obviously the growth was not an aggressive type. 

About 6 months later, Roy started to have completely different symptoms related to his throat. His high pitched and loud meows went really quite and weak, he had some weird swallowing and things I now can’t remember. The vet thought he may have voice box cancer, but a definite diagnosis would require a surgery that could potentially kill him, so obviously not worth it. I just monitored him and tried my best to keep him comfortable. 

Eventually I noticed that Roy was fighting with me about taking his medications. He had never done that before. In the morning he knew I would medicate him before I left and he started to run away from me. It was heart breaking. He was also acting in discomfort often and started to frequent the cubbyhole in the bookshelf again. I made the tough decision to stop his oral medications, since I realized they were probably causing him considerable pain when he swallowed. 

At first the lack of medications made him come alive! He was playing again and being frisky and causing trouble, just like the good old days. He was always very affectionate, but he wanted to be held even more and cuddled up more than ever. It was great, until I noticed the shaking in his front arms while standing. Then, losing balance of his back legs on occasion. Not falling or anything, but he was off. With time, he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable just sitting around. He shifted his weight often. It was obvious he had trouble finding comfort.

It is hard because you always wonder what you could have done differently to keep your baby alive. Or to make sure they had the best life possible. Or be in the least amount of pain. There are no right or wrong answers, but there are always those lingering questions.  I know I made the best decisions I could have given the information I had in front on me.  I know that I loved Roy more than imaginable, and the last thing I wanted was for him to be gone, just as he is now. But the only thing I know for sure is I miss him tremendously. 

The day it happened, I had a vet come to the house. Roy hated to travel and the vet office, so I didn’t want to put him through that. It was more expensive but definitely worth it. He was able to die on his favorite chair with the comforts of his life around him. My cat Loki was able to come into the room and see the body afterwards, to allow his own processing of what happened. Roy and Loki were not really friends. In fact, Roy kind of bullied him. A part of me expected Loki to be excited, since he could finally get a lot of attention. But I think Loki is depressed. The loss of Roy has affected him more than I expected.

I chose a private cremation and I still have no idea what to do with the ashes. It is amazing how such a big personality could fit into such a small container. I created a memorial where he died of sympathy cards, his collar, flowers and the ashes. Most of me still can’t accept what happened, but it will hit me in waves. This usually happens unexpectedly and at inconvenient times. Even while watching the new movie “Lincoln”, a wave of sadness hit me. President Lincoln laid down next to his son and this made me tear up thinking of all the times I laid next to Roy with such affection. Just watching Juncos feed on the sidewalk, I was reminded of life and death and started to cry for Roy. Being able to leave water glasses out, or the toilet seat up or clothes on the floor without the worry of Roy tipping it over, or drinking from it, or peeing on it- has all made me cry.  

Roy was an awesome cat. He had such a demanding presence and got into trouble a lot. But no matter how much he pissed me off, I loved him unconditionally. I would often tell him the most mushy crap imaginable while holding him over my left should listening to his purrs placed perfectly over my ear. I will miss him forever, but my life has also gained instrumentally from having him in my life. No matter how difficult the euthanasia decision was, or how hard this grieving has and will be; I will never regret the love I shared with him.