amboehlen

It sounds like Gracie was so comforted by you petting her, that is absolutely adorable. I may have mistaken Gracie for a puppy in past responses, if so I apologize! She sounds like such a sweet kitty. Did you guys have morning rituals, was she one of those cats that wakes you up super early in the morning for breakfast?

I can definitely relate to this, I still wake up in the middle of the night and roll over carefully so I don't disturb my sleeping cat. I can still feel him sleeping at my feet or between my legs. It will definitely take some adjusting

It's been 4 days since we rushed Westley to the hospital unexpectedly. It was another day full of distractions. I was able to do the dishes that have been sitting in the sink since that night, which felt like a huge accomplishment. My husband went off to the store and I decided to stay behind to see how I could handle alone time. I'm holding up ok but that hole that my Westley left when he departed is at the front of my attention now. My chest is tight, my heart feels empty. I want so desperately to hold him. I want to kiss him. My brain is still resisting the fact that he's gone. The tears have slowed down, but I still feel anxious going into my bedroom knowing that Westley won't be there. I've been leaving the lights on in the bedroom all day. Keeping them off feels weird, like my brain is saying "Ah it's dark in here, that's why you can't see Westley. He's still here though." It hurts. It doesn't feel real. Maybe I'm at the denial part of my grief, but I don't actually know what denial will feel like, I'd love some feedback on how you all felt during this stage of grief. I know the event happened but I can't wrap my head around the fact that the event took him away, and that's he's really gone forever. I'm never going to see him again. When the vet's office called to give their condolences, my mind immediately jumped to, "It's a miracle, they saved him and they're calling to let me know to come bring him home". I'm lost. I'm confused. I feel empty. I miss my cat.

Speak what's on your mind, lovely person, we are here to share in your pain. My heart breaks for you today, I know how much this hurts and how much you miss your baby. Do you want to share some of your favorite memories of her?

I am so sorry for your loss. I know guilt is a natural part of grieving, but I absolutely PROMISE you that you did nothing wrong by seeking treatment for your mental health. As someone who has also struggled deeply with my mental health I really admire your ability to seek treatment. It took me years before I was ready, and many people never make that leap of faith. You did something that took incredible strength, and that decision does NOT characterize or change the love you had for your dog, or the love he had for you. Your baby knew that you loved him. He was such a beautiful boy, thank you for sharing those pictures. I hope you will remember that love and be kind to yourself the way you were kind to your beloved dog. Please know you are welcome with open arms here, to speak about your grief and to speak about how your mental health plays a role in that grief. I'm so sorry that you had to experience this, I hope this forum is therapeutic for you and I hope we will be able to help hold you up when you need it. Much love to you

I'm so sorry Paula, it sounds like the love between you and your baby was deep and eternal. Please know that no matter how much time passes, your grief is still valid and we will always be here to hear you. Not being able to have my departed cat near me, held against my chest, brings me so much pain. The tattoo is such a beautiful idea. We got a clay imprint of my cat's paw and holding it against my chest gives me some relief, even if it's only a little May I ask what your dog's name was? She sounds like a sweet baby, again I'm so sorry for your loss

Thank you KayC, I really appreciate the support! Your words are very comforting

Today was rough in a different way. My husband and I spent the day out and it was a good distraction. I got waves of sadness here and there. But now I'm home and the day is winding down and suddenly there's that tightness in my chest, and I remember that my baby boy isn't here anymore. My favorite part of coming home was kissing Westley's forehead, picking him up and carrying him around for a couple minutes. He always nuzzled my face and neck when I picked him up, and never fussed when I'd carry him around the apartment, just because. I really want to hold him, have him sit in my lap for the last hours of the day like he used to. I want to feel his warmth. I want to be annoyed when yells at me for food when his bowl is full. I hate walking into our bedroom. Westley spent most of his time in there, either in his bed or on my office chair. Occasionally he'd join me in the living room, and every single night when my husband and I got into bed, Westley would join us for our cuddle pile. Cuddle pile was my favorite thing in the world, the best part of the day. I miss it. This still doesn't really feel real. I know it happened but I feel like my brain is resisting this new reality. That's why it sucks so much to look at where his bed used to be, or to look at my office chair, and to not see Westley there snoozing. It doesn't look right. It doesn't feel right. So I just avoid it. My office is set up right next to where Westley's bed was. I'm going to move everything out into the living room. I'm getting a new office chair, because mine is very overused, but also it was Westley's chair and I can't handle looking at it without him in it. During my workday, he would watch me and wait for me to get up and walk away from my chair so he could sit in it. He did that up until his very last day. Sometimes he'd settle for sitting behind me on the chair. It wasn't very comfortable but I was happy to share the seat with him. I go back to work on Tuesday. I'm not ready for a workday without my cat on my chair, or sleeping in his bed behind me. But I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Gracie, thank you so much for posting. I've been following a lot of your posts and they resonate so deeply with me. I only lost my Westley 2 days ago but I'm reflecting now on the days leading up to his death, and my husband and I realized that he wasn't eating as much, drinking as much and was sleeping a little extra. It wasn't enough to cause any concern in us at the time, we thought he's just elderly and he's bound to have some slower days. Now I'm thinking that he wasn't feeling well and was getting ready to cross the rainbow bridge. And we had no idea. Not even an inkling. We actually were excited that he'd recovered from a different incident a couple weeks prior and was on the mend. Reflection is so hard. I know it's a natural part of grieving but you play the same situations over and over in your head and ask yourself the same questions. Could I have prevented this? If I'd seen the signs sooner could I have given them more time? I hope you know that you were truly a good puppy parent, and in a perfect world we would all make the perfect decisions and our babies would live forever but you gave your dog love and kindness and compassion, and that is perfection. That's all we can do.

I'm so sorry to hear this, you were doing what you thought was best for your baby based on medical advice. My Westley responded really poorly to gabapentine (not sure if I'm spelling that right), it made him unable to walk straight and it killed his appetite, which briefly jeopardized his health. I'm sure you had a very different experience, but sometimes this stuff happens and you just wanted your baby to be comfortable. You acted out of love and compassion, which is admirable and wonderful. You were a wonderful puppy parent.

My heart is breaking reading this. I'm working home as well and I'm not going to have my baby boy in my lap anymore, or sleeping by my feet, or jumping in my chair when I get up for a moment. I also don't want to be at home without him. I don't want to keep coming home to a house that doesn't have my baby waiting for me. Every word you said resonated, I feel your pain and I am so deeply sorry for your loss. It's a pain unlike any other I don't know if you have the resources, but you could consider moving your workspace. I'm planning on moving my work desk to another room, I just can't sit where my cat used to sit next to me. I see him everytime I look in that corner, I hear him meowing at me, I feel his presence. I just can't do it.

Hi again, I think I'm going to use this site as a way of journaling my grief I hope you don't mind... It's day two after losing my kitty that I had for 21 years. Yesterday all I did was sit on the couch and cry. I wandered around the apartment aimlessly, it felt like I was looking desperately for my cat even though I knew he wasn't there. I kind of stared at the place his bed was. I stared at my desk chair that he would jump into not 30 seconds after I had gotten up. I guess I'm just trying to process that he's really not there. I still feel him. I still see him. I still hear him (he was a very vocal cat). My brain is just not accepting that he's gone. Not just out of the apartment, but gone forever. It doesn't feel real. None of this feels real. Today was a little better in the morning, I spent some time out of the apartment with my husband and best friend. I felt fine until we got home and my cat wasn't there. We always went to wake him up when we got home, and today was the first time we weren't able to do that. I feel like a huge part of me is missing. I don't feel whole. I miss him so much. He was the best cat we could have ever asked for. I wish I had held him a little longer. I'm haunted by seeing him leave us. He had a stroke or seizure, or an aneurysm, we're not sure. We rushed him to the hospital, they sedated him, and when I held him while they euthanized him, he was not my cat. He didn't recognize us, he didn't make any noise, he didn't return our gaze. And that breaks my heart. I didn't get to say goodbye to my baby. I got to say goodbye to his body, but I never got to say goodbye to my baby. Everything happened so quickly and he was gone so suddenly. I don't really have a point to this story, I'm just getting all my feelings out. My heart is shattered and I just wish there was more I could have done for my Westley. My baby, my Loafus, my old man, my punk ass baby cat, my baby boy. I just don't know how to go on. I don't know how to live life without such a big part missing.

I'm so sorry to hear this. My baby boy struggled with kidney disease for a few years as well. I'm so happy to hear that Callie has been feeling a little better! I'm starting the grieving process as well so please reach out if you ever need to talk. We had to put my baby down unexpectedly yesterday so my husband and I are also beginning this journey.

I know this is an older topic but I just came across it, it hits really close to home. We unexpectedly had to put my baby down yesterday. I've had him since I was 3 years old, and he gave me 21 love filled years. I'm scared for night to come, because I don't want to crawl into bed without him following me and snuggling up next to me. I don't want to sleep through the night without waking up to him sitting between my legs. I am so deeply sorry for your loss. It sounds like there was so much love between you two.

Hi, I'm looking for ways to grieve in an effective healthy manner. I feel very lost and disoriented right now We had to put my 21 year old cat down unexpectedly last night. I've had this cat since I was three, I don't remember a life before him or without him. He was having some issues a couple weeks ago but they seemed cleared up and he was back to normal. Very talkative, very spunky, eating well. Then last night, literally in a matter of seconds he had an event (stroke, seizure, we're unsure). Rushed him to the ER and had to make the choice to let him rest. That was less than 24 hours ago. I don't know how to grieve him. I don't know where to start. Right now I'm just crying. My husband and I boxed up his food too give to my parents. We washed his food and water bowls. He had a makeshift bed made of blankets, we washed those and put them away. Now I'm just crying. I miss him. I don't want to believe that he's gone, that I'll never hear him or see him or hold him again. I desperately want him in my arms. I don't know how to start grieving, I feel empty. I feel like I'm drowning. I know things will get better in time but this first day feels impossible. I don't know what to do. I attached a picture of my baby. His name was Westley, and he was so incredibly handsome.