Saying goodbye too soon!
If you’ve even had a fur baby, you know what it means to be a fur mama. This pretty kitty came into our lives and pretty much sealed the relationship between my then boyfriend, now husband, Mike and I.
The couple whose cat had kittens name her “crack-head”. They were giving the kittens away. “Crack-head”, turned Peanut, use to run straight into things.
Evidently she hadn’t gotten feeling in her whiskers just yet. Peanut was only eleven when we made the hardest, yet humane decision to “let her go”.
I can’t say “put down”, it breaks my heart and sounds horrible! At least “lay to rest” sounds better. Peanut had lymphoma, which is a type of cancer. For peanut, it was affecting her intestines.
Fur Baby, Peanut.
Lymphoma cancer cells built up the walls of the intestines, making it unable for vital nutrients to be absorbed into the blood stream.
In Peanut’s instance, food was broken down and basically turned into waste. Poop. I noticed she was going in the litter box a lot more often, or she was throwing it up. Either case, it was not going to end well for my kitty in the long run.
Peanut was a wonderful cat! She was my fur baby. The last, of three of our cats. Our kids knew she had been sick.
Actually she’d been sick for more than two years, but we never really knew why.
By the time the vet figured it out, it was too late. So when her last vet visit came, and they had told me she’d lost another pound (she weighed in at only five pounds), I knew it wasn’t fair to her to suffer anymore.
My daughter was with me the day I took her to the vet. This is one of those times, I’m glad she had the iPad, so she wasn’t aware of what was taking place.
The decision was made, and they gave her what they call a cat concoction. It basically put her to sleep. I held her in my arms and said my last goodbyes. I was a mess.
Goodbye my love
How to tell the kiddos? When? What do we say?
A few days later, my daughter said we needed to go pick up Peanut from the vet. I told her she wasn’t there, and that was that.
She’s two and a half. I didn’t expect her to understand my meaning, between the lines. I think it was a day, or so after that my son asked “where’s Peanut?” Mike and I sat him down, and my husband told him that Peanut was in heaven with her brother and sister.
He took it as well as I thought he would. He cried a bit. Asked a couple of questions.
I then told him a story, that a very dear friend of mine had recently told me. She’s used this same story to explain death to her son, who’s just a few weeks younger than my son. She said,
“I explain to him, it’s like the life cycle of a flower from the Dinosaur Train’s episode with Tiny and her flowers dying.” “A flower has seeds, and when the seeds fall to the ground, then grow into plants and flowers.” “Those flower live their life cycle, then they die, which drops more seeds, and the cycle begins again.”
This was so clever, I used it to explain Peanut’s passing to my son. Afterward he seemed to brighten a bit and feel better. I still miss my fur baby, lap kitty, and cuddle bug. She was the most loving cat ever! I’ve had cats in my childhood, but never as affectionate as my baby, Peanut. She will be missed.
