On September 30, 2017, we adopted a new furry family member. Daisy was a 12-year old cat who was surrendered to Kitty Angels when her human passed away. Because our cat Firefly, whom we’ve had since she was a kitten, was 9-years old, we thought adopting an older cat would be best.
We knew we wouldn’t have a lot of time with Daisy, but we thought we’d have more than we did.
When we took Daisy for her check up in January, she was diagnosed with kidney disease, liver disease, and high blood pressure. We put her on medications for these conditions, and changed her food. She seemed to get better for a bit. Then, I noticed, as she was sitting on my lap, she seemed to be having little stomach spasms. We took her back to the vet. They heard wheezing. They took an x-ray. There was fluid surrounding her heart and lungs. The spasms I felt were her gasping for air.
There were invasive procedures we could have tried. But, even with her eating large cans of food, she had lost more weight, when she was supposed to be putting weight on. On Tuesday, March 5, 2019, we took Daisy to the vet and said good-bye.
I’ve never had to do that before. The first cat I had was hit by a car. My Katchoo cat died at home after a long illness. My Sassy cat succumbed to old age – she basically closed her eyes and never woke up. Jackson’s Jinxy cat had a sudden stroke. But I looked into Daisy’s eyes as the vet gave her the injection that would allow her to go peacefully.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I wished we had had more time. I wish we could have given her more time, with a better quality of life.
I’ve read that, when someone dies, you’re supposed to see the light go out in their eyes. That didn’t happen with Daisy. She looked directly into my eyes, and I into hers, and then the vet said, “She’s passed.” I saw no difference.