She died in my arms

She died in my arms when she was 18.

She was my beautiful grey cat.

In her younger years she had been fluffy and silky, yet now she was very sick. Her long grey hair, still pretty, but not as much of it, was matted. She was very sad looking.

She had not been eating for a few days, and then she would graze and then seem ok.

She had a narrow escape with death just a year earlier when my dog mistook her for something he should kill. (That is another story) she survived his attack, though badly beaten, the vet that tended to her said she had a healthy heart and all other vital organs were in good shape for an older cat.

I did not think she could be sick. No, I did not want her to be sick. Yes I knew she was 18, but she had been through that narrow escape with my dog, and survived.

Looking back, I was in denial. My cat had not been eating, and had been hiding to sleep. She had been vomiting in the night and each morning I would clean it up, clean her up, feed her, and think she would be ok.

I don’t know now how long this went on, I think it may have been a week or so, when it got so bad, I knew I would need to accept it, that her time was soon.

I would take her to the vet the next day, I had said to myself. They will give me advice.

I did not want to leave her alone. I stayed up in the night and sat with her. I held her, and helped her drink some water.

I can’t describe it now as it is too unpleasant to remember. I can only remember that I was holding her, and then I put her down, and she seemed to be having some sort of an episode, as she was shaking and twitching, and I picked her up and held her again. She died in my arms just minutes later.

I had never experienced death of a cat before. She was my seventh cat, and the only one that had lived with me all her life. These were the days when we all used to let our cats go out. Well, four of my cats, over a period of years went out and did not come back, and the other two were with my aunt when they died.

When is it time, we never know, but for Biddy, it was her time. Could I have given her a month or so more by taking her to the vet? Or would they have recommended her life to end? Did I make her suffer? Should I have taken her to the vet earlier to stop her suffering?

I will never know the answer to any of these questions. My cat, died in my arms, I wanted to say goodbye this way, though I did not want her to suffer. We have the right to help our pets, and we often feel guilty when we take that right and give our pets that final gift, the gift of stopping the pain. Yes often we feel guilty too when we prolong a pets life, and after they are gone we wonder, did we make them suffer, for us. We feel so guilty, and selfish.

All I can comfort myself with is that I was with her, and she had been my cat for 18 years, she would have wanted to be with me at the end.  I was with her from when she was just a tiny kitten to her very last breath.

When I first got her, from the SPCA she was one of a litter of kittens and they all had an upper respiratory virus. I had been told she may not survive and that all I could do was feed her and take care of her, and that may pull her through. (That will be another story)

Biddy may have had renal failure, as this is one of the most common causes of death n older cats. Experts say that a cat will show no signs of any problems for some time, until 70% of renal function is lost. Then the cat will show signs. Biddy was showing some of these signs.   

I don’t know what caused her to die that day, yet I can say, for 18 years, she was taken care of and loved, and she will always be missed.

This was a long time ago now, thirteen years ago. Biddy died in my arms on the morning of April 21 2001.