I'm new to the forums and community. Joined today, because I fear I'm close to losing my beloved furbaby Stormy - 11 year-old tabby. And the pain and hurt is killing me inside. How I'm even making it through work today, or how I'm going to get through next week, I honestly don't know.
I adopted Stormy from the local humane society about 7 years ago. I had gone looking for a young kitten, because I was going through a very rough time in life and, knowing little about the "typical" life span of cats, didn't want to take a chance on getting an older cat and then having to suffer through that loss in the near-term (nothing against older pets, just wouldn't have been a good idea for me at the time). The staff, though, asked me if I would consider a cat who was a little older, and I said I’d at least take a look, even though I wasn’t initially thrilled with the idea. But, Stormy was SO cute. As we walked by her cage, she started meowing and pawing at the cage door like, “Hi! I want to play with you!”. When we opened the door, she immediately shrank to the back of the cage, but then when it was closed again, she started meowing and pawing at us. I decided to give her a chance. Her card said she’d do best as an “only pet”, and at the time I was a bachelor with no children or furbabies, so I thought that would be perfect. Life has changed those situations quite a bit, as I’m now married with children and some other furbabies, but she has stuck by me through it all with completely unconditional love.
Long story short (as I know there’s another forum for memories and plan to post there later), the last 7 years with her have been more wonderful than I could ask for. She’s 11 years old now. Still sleeps with me at night, still tries to wake me up in the mornings if my alarm doesn’t get me up, still comes and follows me around the bathroom in the mornings while I get ready for work. And occasionally sits in my lap once the house is quiet and my kids and other pets are in bed. She’s at the point now where her colon isn’t contracting properly, so relieving herself isn’t always the most “pleasant” experience – and apparently she is occasionally having accidents outside the litterbox.
My wife is thinking it’s time for Stormy to make the journey to Rainbow Bridge, but I can’t bring myself to consider that yet. I struggle, not because I want Stormy to suffer, but because I feel like sending her on that final journey at this point would ultimately be for no reason other than “cleaning up after her is inconvenient.” Even though we have other furbabies, the thought of losing “Daddy’s little girl” is ripping my heart to shreds.
Well, I’m going to close this out now, as it’s starting to make me cry again, and I’ve still got half a day of work to go. Thanks for listening, all. I’m sure when the time DOES finally come, I’ll probably be posting here again to help deal with THAT load of grief…but I knew if I didn’t at least get this off my chest now, it was going to keep eating at me.