YOU ARE NOT ALONE - A companion online community discussion board for The Mental Illness Happy Hour podcast with Paul Gilmartin

We had to make the decision to put our kitty to sleep Wednesday, and I want to scream, cry, vomit out my entire insides like sea cucumbers do, and punch a baby. Preferably all at once, and repeatedly, until this grief subsides.

Kittyman was diagnosed with chronic renal failure about two months ago, after an undetected tooth infection basically murdered his kidneys. Following two months of dental surgery, medications, special diets, and otherwise attempting to fix him up (without resorting to extreme measures), he abruptly deteriorated over last weekend - way faster than even the worst-case prognosis predicted. We went to the vet for some tests on Monday, and got the dreadful news that the end of his road had arrived. The vet rehydrated him for comfort, and sent us home together to say goodbye.

We spent Tuesday in a state of pure emotional mortification, but had the incredible blessing of hanging out with him all Wednesday morning before the vets arrived, just listening to him purr. He smiled and started purring again after the vets administered the medication that sent him slowly to rest. And so, yesterday afternoon, our Kittyman passed away so incredibly peacefully at home, on his favourite sleeping spot on the corner of our bed, assisted by our loving and kind vet staff, with us - his mumwee and dadwee - kissing him and whispering how very much we love him and always-always-always will.

He had a beautiful life with his mumwee and dadwee, sister kitty and brother doggy, and all his friends and family across the world who knew and loved him so much. And we gave him a "good" death, which I think is all any of us could ask for. But today is Day Two of living without him, and his absence hurts so. fucking. badly. The pain of his absence is so much easier to bear than watching him deteriorate, or the agony of making the decision to prevent his further suffering. But oh my God - that vacuous, empty abyss our dearly departed leave behind, for those of us still living to stare into.

Having grown up around addicts and unmitigated white-trash insanity, I have had a lot of human deaths in my life; having worked in animal rescue, I have experienced a lot of animal death as well. And I have to say, nothing hurts quite so fucking badly as the loss of an animal. Their love is so clean, so unconditional, so absent bullshit & manipulation, and free of risk...until this point in time. So easy to love, so incredibly hard to lose.

We have our other kitty and doggy to keep us company, so we aren't going to be living with our hearts entirely closed off. But I just kind of want to move into a hut by myself to avoid all the loss that comes with extending our hearts to others. The rewards are so great, but this part of it is shit.

I know there are people dying everywhere, in horrific circumstances, all over the world - in the Gaza Strip, famine, Afghanistan, oncology and cardiology and hospice wards everywhere, and so many of us are losing or have lost friends, family, even children, which is impossible to bear. But if you could spare a thought for our little kitty, and all the little kitties and doggies and other creatures who are making this transition as we type, I would be deeply grateful.

In closing, I am seriously considering asking someone to kick me in the tits so I feel better. Thanks for sticking with me, and much love to you all.

You wrote eloquently about what Kittyman meant to you, Mareda. Don't feel embarrassed by your genuine sense of loss. Kittyman had a pain-free and dignified end-of-life, which was what you could give him after all he gave to you. Please take care.

Thank you for your lovely words, manuel_moe_g. You are a kind soul.

I'm so sorry Mareda. I have seen two cats pass within the last several years, one in a traumatic accident and one from kidney disease. Even the second was no less emotionally wrenching on me than the first. I am so glad that Kittyman was purring and happy near the end, but I know how much that loss hurts. My cat with CRF was the one who had been with me through the worst of my depression as a teenager and unconditionally loved me, and the grief over him took me at least two months, I think.

Just remember that however you need to grieve is all right. Be patient with yourself. For weeks I beat myself up for "not being over" my cat's death, so try to be kind and allow yourself to hurt.

Thanks so much, rightghoul. I'm so glad you had the great fortune to be loved by your two pals. It is oddly comforting to hear about other pet guardians' stories of loss and coping right now, so thank you for sharing yours and helping me.

I am so sorry for the loss of your sweet Kittyman. Even though pets are "just" animals, they allow us to be ourselves in ways that we sometimes can't with other humans. They love us as unconditionally as we do them. They snuggle with us when we are sad or sick, and the next day demonstrate to us pure joy and playfulness.

Big MentalPod hugs to you and all others who knew Kittyman.

@DemureEccentric - thank you so much for your kindness, and you are absolutely right. Many a time, I find myself being a silly little child again with my pets, in ways that I would never be even with the people closest to me. Funny how animals bring that out in us, and they don't even judge us for it. Or at least not in a way that's detectable to humans.

Big MentalPod hugs to you in return, and thanks again for your kind and generous words. I still feel Kittyman's presence around the house, and even if it's just my batshit imagination inventing things, I'm happy for it. His absence still stings like crazy, but it's nice to see a drink tip over for no reason in particular and be pretty certain it's his ghost making itself known. He still thinks that's a funny stunt.

P.S. - is there a way to set email notifications when a new post is made in a thread you've started or commented on? I feel terribly for not having seen your post and letting it go without thanks for so long. Sorry about that. :/

This really hit a nerve with me. I'm crying for how beautiful what you did was and reminded of the pain in my past.

I still have dreams about my childhood cat, Mister (Mr. darling but we just called him Mister). He was the smartest, sweetest cat. He meant so much to me. He suffered so much in his last years, after being trapped in the house during a flea bombing that didn't even work, he found a window in the basement with a crack in it and survived by breathing through it. But he was so sick. He hung on for 7 more years and died on the Fourth of July. He fought for every last breath. I could tell he didn't want to leave us. I had had 3 grandparents die (the other died when my mom was young) but this was the first death I cried over. And I couldn't stop for a week. I so wish we had done it your way.

And our long neglected dog Ruby, who my family won't even let me bring up. In her last years I ave her baths, took her on walks, gave her the love and attention she had been missing. But I was in college and not always home. My parents had become cat hoarders and my mom refused to let the dog be an indoor dog but didn't have the decency to give the dog a new home. She sat out in her pen most days. We begged to let her inside. We were kids so we didn't understand how to take care of a dog and I know she didn't deserve the life she had. I still cry for her. But I know that I gave her a few happy days toward the end. It was so horrible. I wish someone had called an animal rescue league, even being put to sleep would have been better than that life. I'm so angry about it still. Angry at myself as well, even though I was just a kid, I should have done more. Should have brought her with me to college. Ahoy kid have ignored my mom's pleas not to walk her to take her to the vet because it was too embarrassing for her. I did eventually take her on walks anyway.

You did the right thing. You have no idea how kind it is to put an animal to sleep when it is in that kind of pain. I was so touched by what you did, it just makes me feel disgusted with myself.

Big hug. Thank you for giving your cat a good life and a good death.

I want to hug everybody in this thread. I definitely understand Mareda especially because of my old dog. Our little man was put to sleep almost four years ago and it still hurts. He was a good dog who had been hit by a car early in life and had health issues after that. It's a really tough decision but you did the right thing and I hope you find peace.