Your Pet Loss Stories

by Judy
(Santa Clara, California)

You are gone, my sweet little Otis. Wednesday, January 16, 2013. At 12 years old, you looked so good and healthy, except your breathing was labored, you seemed to want to always lie down, and had some trouble standing sometimes. You couldn’t eat or drink water and no longer used your kitty pan. My little Otis was in so much distress. And it all happened so fast.

I kissed your sweet head between your ears as they injected you with a sedative and then a final dose to stop your heart. I didn’t hold you while they injected you because you seemed comfortable only on the exam table on top of a towel. But as soon as you passed, I picked you up and held you to me and kissed you for several minutes knowing you were at peace and no longer suffering.

You always liked it when I kissed your head and nuzzled you, when you were not too busy with other things. You were such a wonderful companion. You are and were my baby to the end. I hope euthanasia was the right thing to do for us both. My main regret is that I did not take you outside to sit on top of the cat tree to look around at least one more time before I took you to the vet. But I so hoped and expected you would return home with me that I didn’t think of it until it was finally apparent that today was the day you must leave me.

Even now I look at the boxes in front of the living room window where you use to sit to look outside. Or the way you ran to the balcony door anytime you heard the door open so you could get up on your cat tree and pretend you were really an “outside cat.” From there you could be outside and still safe from whatever you saw from your “perch.” Though you were always an inside cat, you always believed yourself to be an outside cat as long as you were safe from people seeing you.

I remember when you were about 9 months old and you learned to “walk” on a leash. You made me work to get you to leash walk, but I was so proud of you when you finally took half mile walks with me. I still remember the day someone asked me what kind of cat you were that could walk on a leash. It was thanks to you that the apartment complex created a policy that all cats must be on a leash. If you could do it, they believed any cat could be leash trained.

Over the past month, I loved it when you started to sleep next to me on my bed. I still don’t know how you mustered the energy to jump from the floor to my bed last night, even though you got down right away. When you hit the floor with a thud, I knew you were in bad shape. Though you didn’t like to be held, I couldn’t help but snuggle you when you would jump up to sit next to me. You made me feel very close to you.

I so much miss your greeting at the door when I returned home from the vet, and will for a long time to come. I wish my sweet boy was still here so I could see your beautiful spots one more time and that I could hold you one last time.

Sweet dreams, my Otis. Thank you for all the wonderful days you spent with me. You are loved. I hope and wish to hold you in my arms again in my dreams.