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We all familiar with Lauren Herschel's ball in a box explanation of grief? No? Go read, I'll wait.
So we lost Moonbeam on Saturday.
He'd been having issues since late spring, starting with occasional fits of sneezing and discharge on one side. Over time it got worse. He got put on course after course of antibiotics which would always help at first, and then slowly the sneezing fits would come back. Way the vets figured he could have a stubborn bacterial infection from a bad tooth, or some kind of nasal tumor, there was no way to be sure without knocking him out and subjecting him to all kinds of expensive testing, which they were really hesitant to do on a 21 year old cat. even if said cat had the constitution stat of a rock and the bloodwork of a much younger cat to the point where whenever it came back I got asked "are you sure he's 21?" Anyway. All that was very understandable. I just wanted to keep him comfy and happy for as long as possible.
July 4th the half of his face that had been having problems swelled up alarmingly. Normal vets office was slammed, so we took him to the e-vet one town over. Dental abscess. They drained it, cleaned him up, and recommended we actually do the dental surgery since his bloodwork was so good. Cue a fun week of poor dude being stuck in a cone and about a month of him looking funny cause they had to shave half his face to drain the abscess. More fucking antibiotics. Husbeast became an expert in dosing a very annoyed cat with syringes. A month later, August 1, he gets three bad teeth pulled, including both upper canines. We got three glorious weeks of everything being all better. No sneezing, no discharge, he's back to being a cantankerous old nuisance again.
End of August. Sneezing returned. Occasionally there was blood, but from what we can tell, its because he sneezed so violently he kept catching his lip with his lower teeth, since getting both upper canines pulled changed the position of his mouth just enough for that to happen. Fuck. Back to the vet, another shot of the Really Strong Antibiotic, symptoms do the normal dial back a bit, but never really go away. His face gets a little puffy again, but then gets better.
Saturday morning I woke up to him yowling in the kitchen. It's the same call he did if he temporarily forgot our apartment has an upstairs and he wass wondering where everyone was. My usual method of dealing with this was finding wherever he was in the house, picking him up and bringing him back where people were. Figured this was another instance of that. So more than a little bit of a shock to find the kitchen floor covered in blood and poor dude just dripping from the mouth and nose.
We call the e-vet, they tell us to bring him right in. It gets increasingly clear that there's not much we can do for him, so we make the call. Drew goes home to get the kids so they can say goodbye.
He was ready. I pretty much knew when I put him in the carrier to go, and not a single struggle was put up. Nor did he attempt to get out when I opened the top to let the kids pet him before we left. Old Man was Tired. I'm pretty sure he passed at the sedative stage of euthanasia. I was cuddling him as he went, and he went limp and still long before whatever stuff they give them to assist them along to whatever happens afterward even got into his body. I'm just sorry the hours before his passing were so hard for him. He didn't deserve that.
The fact that he had a long and happy retirement full of cushy places to sleep (even if he chose the weirdest and hardest things to put his head on during his daily 18 hour naps) and lots of on demand attention, snuggles and occasional human food treats is kind of cold comfort at the moment. Right now is missing his insistent paw smacks to come to bed at night, his constant walking and sitting on both me and Husbeast all damn night, his aggressive headbonks, and his YOU HAVE A HAM SANDWICH IN THAT DUNKIN BAG GIMME screams. Fuck, right now I even miss his terrible breath and ongoing habit of pooping in the bathtub if the litter box wasn't up to his lofty standards.
I know the grief ball will get smaller as time goes on. Not everyone gets the privilege of knowing a cat for almost 2 decades, especially not knowing The Best Cat.
I love and miss you, Buddy-bear. I don't really hold with the Rainbow Bridge idea, but if there is something after life, I hope you find Dad and make an absolute nuisance of yourself. For a cat we only expected to have a year, maybe two, you truly beat the odds and gave us eight and a half, and for that, I am eternally grateful. And even though I know I did the best I could for you, I only wish I could have made the last six months, hell even just Saturday, easier for you somehow. Maybe we just should have done this sooner. I don't know. For that I'm sorry. But hey, kudos on outliving Queen Elizabeth II, even if it was only by a couple of weeks.
Hail the Traveler, he of many names, Moonbeam, Old Man, Mr. Beams, Moonbeast Soulshitter: Terror of Tublandia, Anime Eyes, Smellycat, Optimum Cattus, Buddy-bear, Ancient Gremlin, best cat ever.
"He don't care about expensive things, cashmere coats, diamond rings, don't mean a thing, all he cares about is love, that's what he's here for."
So we lost Moonbeam on Saturday.
He'd been having issues since late spring, starting with occasional fits of sneezing and discharge on one side. Over time it got worse. He got put on course after course of antibiotics which would always help at first, and then slowly the sneezing fits would come back. Way the vets figured he could have a stubborn bacterial infection from a bad tooth, or some kind of nasal tumor, there was no way to be sure without knocking him out and subjecting him to all kinds of expensive testing, which they were really hesitant to do on a 21 year old cat. even if said cat had the constitution stat of a rock and the bloodwork of a much younger cat to the point where whenever it came back I got asked "are you sure he's 21?" Anyway. All that was very understandable. I just wanted to keep him comfy and happy for as long as possible.
July 4th the half of his face that had been having problems swelled up alarmingly. Normal vets office was slammed, so we took him to the e-vet one town over. Dental abscess. They drained it, cleaned him up, and recommended we actually do the dental surgery since his bloodwork was so good. Cue a fun week of poor dude being stuck in a cone and about a month of him looking funny cause they had to shave half his face to drain the abscess. More fucking antibiotics. Husbeast became an expert in dosing a very annoyed cat with syringes. A month later, August 1, he gets three bad teeth pulled, including both upper canines. We got three glorious weeks of everything being all better. No sneezing, no discharge, he's back to being a cantankerous old nuisance again.
End of August. Sneezing returned. Occasionally there was blood, but from what we can tell, its because he sneezed so violently he kept catching his lip with his lower teeth, since getting both upper canines pulled changed the position of his mouth just enough for that to happen. Fuck. Back to the vet, another shot of the Really Strong Antibiotic, symptoms do the normal dial back a bit, but never really go away. His face gets a little puffy again, but then gets better.
Saturday morning I woke up to him yowling in the kitchen. It's the same call he did if he temporarily forgot our apartment has an upstairs and he wass wondering where everyone was. My usual method of dealing with this was finding wherever he was in the house, picking him up and bringing him back where people were. Figured this was another instance of that. So more than a little bit of a shock to find the kitchen floor covered in blood and poor dude just dripping from the mouth and nose.
We call the e-vet, they tell us to bring him right in. It gets increasingly clear that there's not much we can do for him, so we make the call. Drew goes home to get the kids so they can say goodbye.
He was ready. I pretty much knew when I put him in the carrier to go, and not a single struggle was put up. Nor did he attempt to get out when I opened the top to let the kids pet him before we left. Old Man was Tired. I'm pretty sure he passed at the sedative stage of euthanasia. I was cuddling him as he went, and he went limp and still long before whatever stuff they give them to assist them along to whatever happens afterward even got into his body. I'm just sorry the hours before his passing were so hard for him. He didn't deserve that.
The fact that he had a long and happy retirement full of cushy places to sleep (even if he chose the weirdest and hardest things to put his head on during his daily 18 hour naps) and lots of on demand attention, snuggles and occasional human food treats is kind of cold comfort at the moment. Right now is missing his insistent paw smacks to come to bed at night, his constant walking and sitting on both me and Husbeast all damn night, his aggressive headbonks, and his YOU HAVE A HAM SANDWICH IN THAT DUNKIN BAG GIMME screams. Fuck, right now I even miss his terrible breath and ongoing habit of pooping in the bathtub if the litter box wasn't up to his lofty standards.
I know the grief ball will get smaller as time goes on. Not everyone gets the privilege of knowing a cat for almost 2 decades, especially not knowing The Best Cat.
I love and miss you, Buddy-bear. I don't really hold with the Rainbow Bridge idea, but if there is something after life, I hope you find Dad and make an absolute nuisance of yourself. For a cat we only expected to have a year, maybe two, you truly beat the odds and gave us eight and a half, and for that, I am eternally grateful. And even though I know I did the best I could for you, I only wish I could have made the last six months, hell even just Saturday, easier for you somehow. Maybe we just should have done this sooner. I don't know. For that I'm sorry. But hey, kudos on outliving Queen Elizabeth II, even if it was only by a couple of weeks.
Hail the Traveler, he of many names, Moonbeam, Old Man, Mr. Beams, Moonbeast Soulshitter: Terror of Tublandia, Anime Eyes, Smellycat, Optimum Cattus, Buddy-bear, Ancient Gremlin, best cat ever.
"He don't care about expensive things, cashmere coats, diamond rings, don't mean a thing, all he cares about is love, that's what he's here for."
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Date: 2022-09-26 09:05 pm (UTC)From:no subject
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