Muffin 2002-2019

Muffin's time on earth has come to an end. I have broken into a million pieces and am in the process of putting myself back together, which is not easy as most of these edges were still sharp and broken from losing Jack.

Losing Jack so suddenly I swore that losing them slowly was much better, but it is an absolute bear to go through.

Muffin started going downhill back in May when I opted to have the growth/cyst on the back of her ear removed. I wonder how much time that cost me at times, but I fall back on the fact that it was going to totally impact her quality of life because it was growing and I could see it becoming a serious problem for her and draining it was not an option - as it actually drained on its own once and it grew back almost immediately.

I was able to nurse her through that and she had some good days and some bad days, but her kidneys were failing and there was nothing that could be done for that. Her blood work said she had been dealing with it for years but it did not slow her down until the end. She bravely faced muscle wasting and arthritis, and she continued to rule over life at Casa de Gato until Thanksgiving.

It was at that time that I knew the end was near. If it hadn't been the holiday I might have scheduled the appointment then and set her free of her body then, but I couldn't. I was selfish. I did everything I could think of to improve her quality of life and then some, and somehow, someway, we did it.. we had one last Christmas together.

It was completely bittersweet.. I was able to cuddle her and love on her and tell her what a wonderful kitty she was, but she was so tired and she wanted to lay in her hammock and not with me for most of the day. I offered her food often, I gave her many treatments with the Assisi Lounge, but she had become anemic and there was very little life left for her.

She had a few good days, and I was very hopeful we would see the new year.. but that was not to be.

There might have been more things we could have tried, more meds, more treatments, more.. but she was tired.. her life was little more than sleep and being medicated and I loved her too much to make her live that life..

Even at the end.. every single cell in my body wanted to tell the vet to go away (we were lucky enough to have an at-home euthanasia) but I knew, I knew.. it was time.

There is so much I can't face right now. Walking up the stairs to go to bed the first time was almost impossible because for the last month I was either carrying her up with me or she was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I've rearranged my office so hopefully, that won't be as hard..

The other kitties seem to be adjusting okay. She had been so sick for so long I think they more than knew..

I miss her so fiercely.

She was a force. She was the most willful kitten I have fostered, the most determined, the most set in her course of action. She knew her mind and she was going to get you to know it too. I was her human far more than she was my cat.. and I loved her for that.

In Star Trek, Klingons have a tradition of bellowing at the sky when a warrior dies to warn those in Sto'Vo'Kor that a great warrior is coming. Somehow that made up tradition seemed to fit..

oh how I miss her..

Kit; Saying Goodbye

Kit from 2011 

Nov 11, 2007 

Daddy's first cuddle 

The day or the day after she was born May 15th 

I knew losing Kit would be hard, but I didn't realize just how hard it would be. Kit was 100% my husband's cat, as I'm sure you are well aware.. 

She would find use for me when I had broccoli or had a blanket over my lap but, on the whole, she far preferred her favorite human, and I can't say I blame her.

I miss her, I do. I adored her because of how happy she made him. What has been hardest on me though is watching him grieve for her. As an empath, I feel it quite keenly and nothing makes me tear up faster than thinking of things that she will no longer be a part of... like crawling up on his chest to watch Charlie Brown Thanksgiving specials.. (which we were able to do one last time)

Kit's last photo.

Nine years was not nearly enough, but sadly it was what we had. In time, we will be able to smile because it happened but right now it still just hurts.

Her last days were hard. When she was diagnosed with lymphoma, I knew it was going to take her quickly because of how fast it popped up. We did not want her to suffer but we were not willing to let go easily. We had multiple discussions about just when to let her go. How do you tell when a cat who has a large lump on her throat is ready to go? At the time of diagnosis, she was still very much "Kit" and I could have gone a few more weeks before I found out it was going on if I hadn't put my hands on her that day. The vet said three to six months which would put her end of life somewhere in the new year - we hoped. But the more I thought about it, the less sure I was. The prednisolone put weight on her and seemed to make the tumor shrink a bit, so I had ideas that we would easily get through Thanksgiving, but we would have to make a decision after that. I spoke to my husband about it quite a bit in those last few days, preparing him that it was coming.

As the days went on, it became clear it was going to be close. She went off her food but happily ate treats. She was maintaining her weight. Yes, treats are not a balanced and appropriate diet, but it would have gotten us through Thanksgiving if the tumor didn't have a mind of its own.

I had taken a few days off to do things around the house but instead it turned into convalescence care for her. It became more and more apparent that her time was measured in hours and not in days. I wanted to make the appointment for Thursday but the vet didn't have an opening. They had a Friday early afternoon which sadly they had to postpone for a few hours.

The sunset on Thursday.

I wanted to make Kit as happy as I could. I dug out her favorite pillow that we had to put away a few years ago because it had a hole that was causing the pellets inside to fall out. I had such grand plans for making her a new one, I did. I have all of the components in my craft room except the stretchy fabric on the bottom. I looked everywhere.. I thought I had time.

She took to it immediately.

Waiting on Friday

Because she travels poorly, I had plans to give her a sedative and some Pepcid to make the journey easier but the tumor had advanced to the point where giving it to her was one of the most difficult things I've ever done.  When the time came, my husband opted to hold her instead of putting her in a carrier. We drove up and while the sedative helped it was still quite hard on all of us.  Her passing was a simple affair that we both were there for. We brought her favorite green blanket and she opted to lay on the floor.

A single star in the middle of the night's sky leads us home.
Nov 11th, 2016

The Crew adjusted very well to her passing. Skippy and Twee have stepped up to occupy the spot on my husband's chest that has been vacant. Fleurp is sleeping on the bed more often now. Everyone lost an ounce or two because they aren't being over fed (since he insisted on giving her a full portion of food despite her eating far less)

One day..