MaineCoonMom

Thank you for your kind words and insight, @KayC. You're right about the "What if?" scenarios playing and replaying, and how ultimately these cannot change the reality of the situation, but I have to—and do—own my part in the events as they unfolded that night, especially since my cat was exceptionally strong and kitten-like, even at his age. (For example, still swatting his toys up and down the hall daily, jumping from perch to perch to check on the world through his windows, knocking items off shelves nightly to wake me because he was "bored," etc.) Still, and again, there is nothing I can do now to change that eve. Thanks for reminding me that honouring him is the best use of my sorrowful energy at this point. I light a candle on the anniversary of his passing and, just this year, took the day off on his birthday to go over cherished memories of his life. I'll read the articles you suggested—thank you, again—but at this point, I'm just hoping one day, I'll get the chance to apologize to him, whether I'm forgiven or not. (And knowing my stubborn boy, he'd make me work for any hint of forgiveness. 🙂) Thanks again, and best to you and your positive survivor spirit (24 goodbyes to dogs and cats, wow! And so sorry...)

Hello, It’s been two years, but the emotions and memories from the horrible night I lost my sweet big boy are still as strong. I blame myself for everything — being too lazy and proud to bring him to the ver for a nail trim, instead hoping to do it myself later; giving him his shot when I was tired; letting him stand on the table when I knew the shot stung and he’d take off right after; not having a rug on the slippery kitchen floor to help him gain footing; waiting to bring him to the vet because I wasn’t sure how serious it was; not telling the ver the specific details and impact of his fall, but just that he fell; letting them get me to leave him with them and wait outside, and not being with him the whole time; letting them stand around and ask what to do with this “old” cat versus make it clear from the first second he was strong and healthy and needed every and any extraordinary measure; not insisting they continue to work well after he collapsed and they nonchalantly said his heart stopped. Every second of that night was my beautiful 17-year-old boy struggling to stay with us, and every second of that night was me and everyone else failing him. How do I get past this? How do I convince myself I SHOULD get past this? How can I trust myself again to care for and protect another animal after I failed the one soul in my life who needed me the most?