primroseburrows | (no subject)

Today is a sad one for the Primrose clan--our much-loved kitty Stormy Elizabeth was gently put to sleep this afternoon. Her health and her weight had been going downhill for the past several weeks, despite thyroid meds and a good appetite. Her breathing had become more and more laboured. The chest X-rays didn't show the lung cancer I'd expected, but rather end-stage emphysema. The vet said she didn't have more than a couple of weeks at best, and that there was no treatment.

The good things are that Mary was able to say goodbye to her (Stormy was Mary's cat more than anyone's, even though she lived with me), and also that I was able to be with her when she died. The vet and her assistant were caring and beyond wonderful. Her passing was peaceful and she purred throughout all of it, and I got to pet her and comfort her the whole time.

She was a little smokey-gray tabby with a sweet face and a disposition to match, and we loved her a lot. I can't remember the exact date of her birth, but we're positive she was at least sixteen or seventeen years old. In other words, she had a lovely, happy, long life in the company of a lot of people (and pets) who loved her--we should all be as fortunate.

She'll be cremated and then her ashes and those of our wonderful old Rhett kitty will be sprinkled on our old property on Block Island (where Mary's dad still lives and where Stormy grew up).

I told Mary that I'm not sure that cats have an afterlife--heck, I'm not even convinced that people do, but if people DO, then surely their pets are there with them. Either way, I like to think of her--and all my lost kitties (and one amazing dog)-- hanging out and playing with their buds over at the Rainbow Bridge. It may be hokey, but I don't care.

Bye, honey. Say hi to everyone for me. ♥♥♥♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

many sympathies :( It's hard when they've been part of the family for so long, but at least she lived long and prospered, which is what matters.

We had to put my dog Roz to sleep when she was eight. I think that's even sadder, somehow. Stormy had a great life. I don't think she was sad to go at all. It's us that's left behind that have all the bummers, y'know?

Yes, indeed - I've had two who've both made it to 17 and losing them was hard, even though for both of them it was time, and physically a relief from pain.

It seems weird, but when it was finally over, I felt that we'd done something really good for her. Which, when you think of it, we did. I'm a sap, so I like to think that somewhere she's running around and rolling in the grass and taking deep, wonderful breaths of sweet air.