Friday May 13th at 10pm Samantha my 16 year old Maine Coon Cat died in my arms in the pet hospital after discovering that she had a belly full of cancer.
Samantha has been my best friend for 15 1/2 years.
The year before I got sober in Oct 1995 my beloved Meme passed away after a brief illness, I was own of town at the time and had friends and coworkers feeding her, but she died alone at night without the comfort of her beloved Papa.
I was devastated and wracked by guilt, I wasn't there when my friend needed me. I decided then I was going to get another cat of my own choosing, I'd heard of Maine Coon Cats and was intrigued by them, I went to the Petsmart and got a book about them. Reading the book I felt that a female of the breed would be the perfect cat for me.
There was a breeder's directory phone number in the local newspaper and calling it I was eventually put in contact with Susan who had older kittens from 2 litters 6 and 8 months old. This was a bit older then I originally wanted but the up side is they were box trained and socialized. A friend of mine and I made the hour drive to Susan's home where I met the cats. There was Papa, Captain Courageous a very large magnificent Red Tabby. He inspected my bag and gave his approval by laying on it.
The kitties were Samantha (Bluegirl) a blue Torbie, her sister a Tortoise Shell that they were keeping and red and white half siblings, 2 girls and a boy, they were 8 months old, Samantha was 6. One of the red females really wanted to go home with me, che climbed into my carrier but while rather indifferent to my presents was strikingly beautiful even in a room of gorgeous cats. I picked Samantha, the Susan offered me a discount if I'd take the 2nd cat to but I had to decline, I was living in an apartment where I wasn't suppose to have a pet and I felt 2 might give away the show. In retrospect I regret that descion, I wish that Samantha had had a kitty friend.
Samantha soon warmed up to me, she was a beauty and was very aware of it, she also knew Papa couldn't deny her anything. Dignified and polite, everyone she met commented on her great beauty, but if they spent any time with her they discovered it was over shadowed by her sweet nature and gentle heart.
At the end of 1999 the company I'd worked for since 1978 went belly up, there would be no more long road trip. I move to a house in the Sacramento area and we were very happy together.
My ex who I'd met in recovery was kinda jealous of Samantha, so she tamed and adopt a stray that was hanging around the house who we named Chiquita. Her and Samantha tolerated each other at best which is another regret of mine. When my ex left in mid 2001 she left her cat behind.
For almost 10 years it's been me, Samantha and Chiquita. I love little Chiquita too but not nearly as much as I do Samantha, I can't help that Samantha was always Daddy's little girl and Chiquita the step child. Chiquita would go bonkers if she saw another cat outside through the window and then attack Samantha, I would not tolerate the cats fighting and I'd toss Chiquita outside to cool off.
Over the years Samantha slowed down, at about 10 she quit jumping to the top of the Armoire and lately she'd been losing some weight. Friday she was not waiting at her food dish like she usually did, she was sleeping in the closet but seemed okay. She seemed okay at lunch time but at 4:00 she was laying in the middle of the floor in distress.
I rushed her to the Vet, they felt a mass in her belly, they put her in a oxygen box to stabilize. They sent me to another facility where they did blood work and an ultrasound and discovered tumors around her spleen and in her intestines. They did a prone of the mass in her intestines and discover it was bad cancer, not something that chemo would work on but only extensive surgery.
At 16 years old I made the decision that surgery would provide hr with a quality life for her remaining time on earth. I decided to let her go.
They brought her into the room with me Wrapped in a blanket and left us to say good-bye, she wasn't in pain but my beautiful little girl was now very old and feeble. I held her in my arms told her how I was blessed to have had her in my life and that I loved her and always would. The Vet came in and administered the meds through a catheter, I felt her small bright spirit leave her body leaving just bones and fur behind.
They placed her body in box and I took her home, I' wrack with grief. The next mourning I open the box, it's just a dead cat Samantha is gone. I show the body to Chiquita, I want her to have some closure, she sniffs the body of her house mate.
I buried Samantha in the flower bed under the kitchen window, she liked to sit on the kitchen table and look out that window, she was an indoor only cat and not allowed to go outside. Sunday night after some reflective thing I realized I may have to move soon I can't bear to leave her behind or the though of the next home owner finding her body when the dig in the flower bed.
Monday mourning I dug her up and took her to the local pet crematorium, I also picked out a nice little urn with kitties on it.
I've been absolutely devastated since then, I feel a sense of guilt. Due to the economy she wasn't getting yearly visit to the Vet, she depended on me to take care of her and I feel I let her down. I feel I was looking at her with rose colored glasses, she was getting old in front of my eyes but I was in denial.
It hurts so much because it was so sudden, the night before she died we had our usually bed time ritual, where I read in bead and she nibbles and licks my fingers then bat the newspaper if she felt ignored.
I feel worse then when my Mom died and my ex left. My Mom had a long illness and her passing was expected and a end to suffering and my ex didn't love me anymore. But Samantha adored me and I adored her. I would look at and tell myself I may not be rich but nobody has a more beautiful or a more loving and gentle cat then me.
Sorry that this is so long but the only thing that helps is sharing, I joined a pet bereavement forum but there's not much traffic there.
It's just me and Chiquita now, she knows Samatha's gone and she's getting more attention.
Samantha lead a good long life, she was rarely sick for even a day and I try to get some solace in that she had 16 good years and only 1 bad day, which is a better ending then most of us end up with.
Thanks for letting me share. Bob.
-- Edited by cooncatbob on Tuesday 17th of May 2011 12:16:39 PM
-- Edited by cooncatbob on Tuesday 17th of May 2011 12:17:13 PM
-- Edited by cooncatbob on Tuesday 17th of May 2011 12:18:10 PM
__________________
Work like you don't need the money
Love like you've never been hurt, and
dance like no one is watching.
So sorry for your loss, Bob. What a beautiful cat Samantha was! Thinking of you as you grieve the loss of your dear feline friend. Take care of yourself during this process. Heather
Heather, thanks for the kind words. I'm finding that many people are very uncomfortable talking about the death of anothers pet because it forces them to think about the mortality of their own pet which might be elderly. Own small friends have a finite life span like we all do, but there's is much shorter, we see our friends everyday but miss the fact that they are growing closer to the end and that our time together might be very short. Samantha and I always spent quality time together before bed, I would read in bed and she would bat the paper or book if she felt she wasn't getting the attention she deserved. So I would stop reading and pet and comb her which she loved and tell her what a good kitty she was. It's amazing how a little praise make our friend just light up with joy. Samantha was a happy cat, she didn't hold grudges and rarely sulked for long. When she was young I went on a business road trip and left her at the office for the girl there to watch, they loved her too. When I got back she took one look at me and ran off and hid, once I found her and took her back home and gave her some love she forgave me, but she was mad and thought I had abandon her.
__________________
Work like you don't need the money
Love like you've never been hurt, and
dance like no one is watching.
Ah Bob, it's so hard aint it. I got sober on Wednesday 18th october 2006. On 21sy October 2006 I adopted a grown cat, a lovely little thing, white, sand and smoke coloured. She wsa very timid having been living in a garage for 2 years asw the owners son was allergic to her and eventually he decided she should be re homed.I can't remember what she was called and she had different names from me at different times of her life. She tried to teach me how to hunt, bringing dead mice and then live ones, then showing me where to find them and on one memorable occaision she even brought a live rabbit kitten for me.
This little cat was my sobriety cat, soemthing for me to focus on as another living sentient being that needed my help and care. There were times when the only thing that kept me going was knowing that I needed to get my arse out of bed to feed the cat.
Around december 2009, I noticed she wasn't as active, then she lost weight, then her belly swelled up. I took her to the vet who gave me the hard news, her liver was buggered. The irony!.
So on the last working day in December 2009, I held on to my little mate while the vet admiinstered the injection, she passed real peaceful, just fell asleep and I cried buckets. That day I moved from the little cottage on the farm to the house where I live now. The cat (who was mostly called just Cat) was cremated and her ashes scattered in the open barn on the farm late one night.
I'd been at the new house for maybe a years when my buddy left for Australia so i fostered his cat for a year. Layla has just recently left for Australia too, so I'm back on my own again. I borrowed a dog for a long wekend and loved it, maybe I'll have to ask the landlord for permission to have a dog, or failing that, find somewhere new to live.
Pet's cause tons of grief and pain when they go, but they also bring joy and love while they're here and maybe a cat is best, because when a cat sits on your lap, you KNOW they're doing it because that's what they want to do.
__________________
It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you got. BB
I feel your pain, cats are experts at masking that they're ill until it's to late, it's a defense mechanism from when they were wild, in the wild the weak get picked off first. I don't understand rentals and no pets, it's really hard around here to find a place that allows pets. People that own pets are likely to be better tenants. When I got Samantha I lived in a placed that didn't allow pets, I had to keep her hidden. I had to staple the drapes in the front window so she could sit on the sill as I lived almost right across from the manager.
__________________
Work like you don't need the money
Love like you've never been hurt, and
dance like no one is watching.
I'm so sorry for your loss and thanks for sharing it. You must be devastated. My cat Claude has brought such joy in my life for nearly ten years now. He is completely allergic to any food except roast chicken and is a rogue. He gets into the dog bisquits and reminds me of what I was like with dreadful hangovers. Your cat was so beautiful and I am glad you found a spot in a nice cemetary for her. I'm giggling about the hiding of samantha part, I bet you had some narrow escapes there. You take care.
I'm so sorry for your loss and thanks for sharing it. You must be devastated. My cat Claude has brought such joy in my life for nearly ten years now. He is completely allergic to any food except roast chicken and is a rogue. He gets into the dog bisquits and reminds me of what I was like with dreadful hangovers. Your cat was so beautiful and I am glad you found a spot in a nice cemetary for her. I'm giggling about the hiding of samantha part, I bet you had some narrow escapes there. You take care.
I didn't find a pet cemetary, I took her body to be cremated.
I got a nice little urn with kitties on it.
I'm going to keep the ahes with me where ever I go.
When the right time and place comes I'll know what to do.
People like myself who don't have children or a significant other, our pets are our children and they're all we have.
It may not be like a normal family, but we love each other.
Yes looking back the apartment days were funny.
The only time I spanked Samantha, she must have been tightrope walking from the kitchen cabinet to the bookcase when she must have slipped and few into the window, she couldn't get out because the drapes were stapled to the wall.
I came home form work saw her trapped there and freaked, I could be evicted or force to get rid of her so I rushed ito the house ripped the drapes opened and spanked her and called her a bad kitty.
After wards I looked at the evidence and realized it was an accident on her part, I felt terrible and apologized to her and never ever punished her ever again.
It wasn't necessary, she was good cat who didn't need to be scolded.
__________________
Work like you don't need the money
Love like you've never been hurt, and
dance like no one is watching.
So sorry for your loss, Bob. What a beautiful cat Samantha was! Thinking of you as you grieve the loss of your dear feline friend. Take care of yourself during this process. Heather
Sorry for your loss Bob. Went throuqh the same thinq with our 15 year old qirl kitty last summer. Cancer in the belly, cried like a baby while the vet put her to sleep. My wife qot the cat while we were datinq and she had been everywhere with us, 3 houses ect... Buried her underneath our bedroom window in a planter where she like to sleep durinq the day. It's cominq up on a year and I still she her sittinq at the slidinq qlass door sometimes.
