Today another family member died of cancer, our brown tabby Valerie. Since we’ve owned her from birth (her mother was also our cat), deciding to put her down was agonizing.
Although we’ve never had more than one dog at a time, the cat population was another story. Catherine, Kennedy, Patch and Val got along well and shared the litter for many years. By the time we moved from our old farmhouse last year, only Val was left.
Returning from Florida two weeks ago, we noticed Val looking unusually thin. Her shoulder and hip bones protruded, and she seemed weak and wobbly. Yesterday the girls took her to a vet in Illinois to see what was wrong and called me in Michigan as they were receiving the unexpected news of terminal kidney cancer with a mass pressing on her intestines, blocking most of it.
All of us were stunned. Despite Val’s continual purring and rubbing up against anything and everything, the vet suggested our best decision would be to put her down, offering to do it that very hour. “Acute pain will soon come,” she said.
But we needed more time to absorb what we’d been told, so the girls took Val home to lavish attention on her and wrestle with the life or death decision. We figured it’d be easier to know what to do, after sleeping on it.
The vet had told us Val was most likely nauseated and feeling uncomfortable. Her vomiting had already begun, and its pinkish hue indicated she was probably bleeding. We knew what had to be done. This morning, however, there were second thoughts. She’d been playful overnight and had eaten a bit of food. When I arrived at the apartment, she climbed on my shoulder and tried to burrow into my hair just as she’d always done.
Wondering whether or not to keep our appointment for Val’s euthanasia, I prayed and asked the Lord for his decision. We got his opinion by way of a timely email from our Michigan next-door-neighbors who detailed the story of a cat they’d waited too long to put down. He’d had to endure a difficult death as a result, and they vowed never to wait that long again.
The girls and I quickly agreed to go ahead with putting Val to sleep, although they declined to accompany me. Mary met me at the vet’s, and Val’s purr-motor quieted quickly as she fell asleep with the sedative. She never even noticed the lethal injection. While I cried having to face death again, in three minutes Val’s heart was still.
All of us couldn’t help but be reminded of Nate’s terminal cancer and his rapid weight loss, the first discovery of a mass in his abdomen, and the discomfort that led to his acute pain. Val’s parallel situation opened those barely-healing wounds all over again, and I wondered why her death had to come now, in this way.
The vet gave us a white box, placing a curled-up Val inside with her head “burrowed” as she loved to do in life. She looked lovely with peace written all over her pretty face. We buried her in the family pet cemetery behind Mary and Bervin’s house, putting a cement marker over the grave.
Looking at her birth and death dates there, I thought about how insignificant the numbers were compared to the gap between them. She lived her life in that gap, and we are thankful for Val’s unconditional love, lavished on everybody… except, of course, Jack. After all, she wasn’t stupid.
”God made… all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.” (Genesis 1:25)
I’m sorry to hear that your cat had to go. Julia and I just visited the vet in the same matter last Friday when we had to put our little rabbit “Gin” down. He was all of a sudden lame in both his back legs and lost a lot of weight. Even if we just had him for half a year(got him from a friends after the other two was taken by the fox..)both of us was devastated. There and then I couldn’t think of getting him in a box to be stored in the freezer until we could have buried him, so I agreed to cremation. And that’s gonna cost me……I guess in the state of sadness we want to do anything to make us feel better especially for your kids. So we will have a nice spring rabbit funeral with the kids and the one rabbit left alone “Filippa” on my expense……..
I’m so sorry to hear about you losing Val. Please let the girls know I’m thinking of you all and sending “air hugs”. Animals really do become part of the family and they each have their own special personalities. Thank you for posting the picture of Nate with Val dressed up — don’t know if that was the same picture you had up at Nate’s visitation, but I love it. The look of sheer enjoyment on Nate’s face in contrast to the “You’ve GOT to be kidding!” look on Val’s face is just precious!!
3 years ago we put our dear golden retriever Maddie to sleep…our hearts break for you today over Val.
Having had 3 cats either put to sleep or die at home, I can really feel your pain. The hardest one was Otello – he was pitch black and loved spaghetti sauce. He died two days before Christmas. We took him in a box to the vet so they could cremate him, sobbing as we left him. The vet sent us a beautiful sympathy card with the picture of a black cat on it. I’ve kept that card, and still cry when I see it. Praying that the Lord will soothe your pain again and again.
From one cat lover to another, I’m so sorry that your sweet animal friend Val had to be put to sleep. She was an important part of your family, and as long as she was alive, she was a link to Nate, who loved and enjoyed her too. Love the photo of Nate with the cat! Though Val had no control over what was happening in her body, maybe she had “sympathy cancer” because she felt attached to him. I doubt that can really happen, but it’s a thought.
Making the decision to put an animal to sleep is heart wrenching. But we do it for their good and comfort. During 40 years of marriage we’ve had these cats: Tiger, Spofie, Sandy, Klaus, Marty, Alexis, and Chloe. Some endeared themselves to us more than others, and we have many stories to tell. And I’ve taken care of my daughters’ cats many times. Lisa had one named Max (a big beautiful, snuggly male Tabby cat). He ate some artifical Easter egg grass and his intestines became blocked. I was staying with Abby (in upstate NY) while Ben and Lisa were on a fun trip to New York City. Max got sicker and sicker and I had to take him to the vet several times, and then had to call Lisa to make the final decision to either do a big, expensive surgery or put him to sleep. It was awful. Little Abby ran around the examining room unable to understand the seriousness of the situation. I put my cell phone up to Max’s ear so Lisa could tell him goodbye, though he may not have recognized her voice as she was sobbing. It was a sad day.
And, of course, you know about Klaus’ disappearance, and years later having to have Marty and Alexis put to sleep. You, Louisa and Brigetta have my sympathies, thoughts and prayers as you grieve your loss. XO
It’s hard to say “good bye” to a faithful friend. What a great reminder that verse on her cement marker is to all of us!
Hi Margaret,
I am sorry for the loss of your good family friend. We did not have much in the way of pets growing up or even now, but we did have a cat for a number of years and she really was part of us. She used to accompany my dad as he worked around the yard. My dad was very attached to her and when she died, he buried her with a tiny granite headstone in the backyard grass. It is sad when a pet dies.
Love,
Terry
Margaret-
My heart aches for you, during this time. Reading your blog has helped me get through my own grieving process of my mom. Although Mom has been gone for 2.5 years, some days it seems just like yesterday.
Reading today’s blog made me realize how many similarities there are between our stories. A few months after Mom was gone, I too had to make the decision to put down my Molly cat, due to terminal kidney problems. She was one of my mom’s girls and I remember that day and how afterwards I went outside, planted and cried over my rosebushes which were her favorite flower.
Thoughts and prayers for you.
-Heather