At first I thought I'd just reply to some of you here and not start my own topic. But then, I realized I needed support as I'm heartbroken.
The following story was written as a reply to another sad mom already but will be all right if I just put it again here.
I lost my boy on Friday, a beautiful birman/balinese soul with the most beautiful hypnotic blue eyes.
He was loosing weight and looking a little lost. I was worried so I rushed for a vet check that afternoon. Apparently the stress of the visit at the clinic was too much for his little heart. He was back to "all good" once we got home, I gave him his favorite meal and minutes later he went in my bed for his regular siesta after the delicious dinner. It was routine, nothing different from any other day. But then I heard a noise. Thinking he was climbing some stuff and everything collapsed, I went to check on the situation. Couldn't see him anywhere and no other visible damage. I looked in other rooms as well - nothing. Came back to the bedroom as I heard some weak noise like he was coughing. He was hidden under the bed, laying on a side and gasping for air. I didn't realize he was in big trouble so I called him as usual but he didn't look up at me. Then... then it's that sharp pain in the heart when you know. You know something is terribly wrong. TERRIBLY. I asked my husband to come right away, I didn't dare to grab him out. In my husbands hands he was lifeless. His eyes were not his eyes anymore and his body was all soft and hanging. I could only moan "What's wrong with you, baby? Baby!".
While my husband was trying CPR on him, I rushed to make an emergency call. I was rambling, shaking and so were my hands as I was struggling to make an emergency phone call. I could barely press the buttons when hubby said "You don't need to call anymore, there's nothing to be done..."
I came back to face the cruel reality. Our boy was gone. Laying on the floor, without breath, he looked like he was sleeping. Except his eyes, they were no longer those beautiful blue round eyes... It's so hard to accept and understand. All I could say was "I can't believe this is happening now, I can't believe. Please god, wake me up, it's the worst nightmare, please wake me up and let me see my boy."
I blame myself for taking him to the vet. Everybody says I did the right thing because I wanted him to be well. Hearing the very sad news and seeing the blood test results the next morning, the vet suggested HCM, a fatal and hidden heart disease. He assured me it would have happened at any time now. But how's that even possible, I thought. My boy was Superman, never been sick, lived 17 years and we agreed on breaking the record. And why was I rushing to see the vet? Why on Friday? Why not some other day, way later?
I saw him melting and I wanted to get a treatment before everything would close because of the coronavirus problems. I was worried about the sudden weight loss and a few other signs and almost panicked. I knew that ignoring the problem won't make it go away and given his age, timing is the key.
Just like many of you you, I blame myself. I know, I tried to do what should have been the best for him. Unfortunately, there's never fun at clinics or hospitals. At least if I called doc to come home, which I blame myself for not doing it to reduce the stress. At the clinic, I asked doc to let me and my husband hold him so we can give him comfort. The investigation was mild, he was not stressed for a long time, just a couple of minutes. But...
At home, we were pretty addicted to each other, always looking for one another and expressing love in the sweetest and childish ways possible.
Last year we moved from Romania to the UK. Our plans included him as a priority. There was not even for a second, any idea of leaving him behind, with my mom for example. We drove for three days, crossed 8 European countries with our baby in the car. Sadly, flight companies refuse pets in/out UK. A silly law but, oh well, we adapted. He was fantastic during the journey. A 15 year old cat, first time taken out of his home, coping so well was amazing, really.
He was everywhere. He still is. He is in my blood and in my heart. We buried him on Saturday in a nice place, with sun and a little shadow, where he can hear the birds and the wind through the trees. We've given him all of his mice toys and balls, his favorite wet food and two red roses. And his favorite soft bed.
I asked him if he ever wanted, or if he ever think that's possible, I asked him to come back to us, in any form or shape he would like and then, then we will know. We will know it's him. I live with this hope now, thinking someday, not too soon, but later, someday we will reunite.
The hardest part now is to cope with the thought I left him in a dark and cold grave, far from me. Far from mommy. How can I apologize to him the best way? How can I make him hear me?.. How can I be sure he is OK and not needing mommy anymore?
My heart is heavy and he deserves all of my tears. He never liked to see me sad or crying, but this time he needs to understand that I miss him.
The photo was taken last year on April 2.