Feelings of grief.

[Beliyal]

Thanks. Now I'm troubled with a decision of whether to retrieve the box she's contained in at her grave site to check if it really is her. If that is the case, I'm terrified I'll want to undo my decision as soon as I find out, considering the taboos of digging up graves and such, and then there's seeing the rotting corpse of my beloved cat.

I'm interested in confirming, though, and being able to lay eyes upon and touch her one last time.

I'd advise against. When my first cat fell from the window, my dad brought him back for me to see him before he got ready to take him to the vet (we didn't really know what happened, the cat just disappeared and my dad went to look in front of the building not really believing he'll be there. He found the cat by pure accident because he meowed as my dad walked passed him). While my dad was getting ready, I saw my cat panting and clearly in pain. I'm sort of glad that I saw him, but that image haunts me to this day. I was 10 years old when this happened and I still remember that image and not in a pleasant way. The cat died while on the way to the vet (it was already too late, we didn't notice that he's gone for at least two hours when he already fell).

I was devastated by the cat's death, I cried almost every day at random points. In school, at home, at the friend's house... It took me months to get a grip and getting a new cat helped (especially since it was from the same people, so my new cat was technically a brother to the one before, because same parents). I'm sorry for your loss and I definitely understand what you're going through.

Either way, seeing them one last time, and in that state is probably not going to make you feel better. Maybe it would be beneficial to be 100% sure it's your cat, but you probably won't like what you'll see. Remember her for how she was in her life, instead of having the last glimpse of her dead body.

 

[beastro]

Last Wednesday/ early Thursday morning, when she went missing, Neer was hit by a car. I knew she'd always come home to us as soon as possible if she could, and it was because of an unfortunate mishap that she didn't.

So, no, Neer has not gone through any suffering, her death was instant, but it gets better.

The person who found her was an animal lover. I haven't been able to phone her, yet, but when she found Neer, she was still warm. She buried her in a box in her back garden.

I'm so sorry.

Not surprised it was a car, not simply because they cause the most deaths to wildlife but I've also seen how Lucy reacts to them crossing a semi-busy road nearby: She'll hear one coming get uneasy, start wondering which way to run, then panic as it gets closer, drop to the ground and freeze in the middle of the road or trying to run back across it when she's already near to the other end (Then I'll drag her along to the sidewalk or scoop her up - I do that with the road and encourage her to cross them with me as training for her to learn to handle doing it in case she might get loose one day).

Really thank the lady who found her and commit to walking your any future cat you may get down the line - it can be both incredible fun and boring at the same time, but above all it's safest for the little guy.

I'm upset, but so happy that what I thought had happened had not happened. I drove myself insane thinking that. But now I can focus on what matters. Three years of a brilliant wee cat. I've always loved cats, but Neer will always be the one that made me love them that much more. My first cat, and loyal, beloved companion.

So that's it, honestly, I can't help but look back and smile. Thanks everybody who shared their stories, and shared your advice and experience with me. Here's to remembering the good times.

I know how it feels. Three out of my four ferrets developed Insulinoma, pretty much Pancreatic cancer in ferts, though ferrets are oddly highly resistant to cancers and it's not a death sentence for them, they can live for years with it and have a good quality of life, but it does take it's toll. By the end of each I was more glad than sad when they passed, for both our sakes, for them to be free of that and for me to have the weight of worrying about them constantly (they can get hit with low blood sugar seizures so I was always checking up on them every few hours, every day for years).

All I can say further is that the bad memories will fade quicker than the good ones, though the good ones might leave a lup in your throat for a long while, even after 11 years my mom can start crying if Joey, our first ferret and the most unique little animal I've ever met, is mentioned.

Oh, a grieve. Don't hold it back, let it out freely when it comes. If you don't it can become like an emotional acid and eat it's way out of you one way or another.

 

[Foolery]

So sorry to hear that she really is gone. But like you said, the less suffering she had the better. I wish you had a chance to say goodbye. When my dad and sister took my cat to the cancer place to be put down, I got a few moments to say my goodbyes and it certainly helped to have a definite end. Though I get a little teary eyed even now when I think about it.

Sorry for the slight ramble, but once again, my condolences.

Thanks. Now I'm troubled with a decision of whether to retrieve the box she's contained in at her grave site to check if it really is her. If that is the case, I'm terrified I'll want to undo my decision as soon as I find out, considering the taboos of digging up graves and such, and then there's seeing the rotting corpse of my beloved cat.

I'm interested in confirming, though, and being able to lay eyes upon and touch her one last time.

I am so sorry, dude. That sucks. It really does. I've lost two cats in the past two years, and a couple before that when I was a kid. It hurts. It always hurts. And not knowing exactly what happened or if it's really them hurts even more. It's difficult to get that sense of closure or that they're truly gone if you don't have all the facts. You move on, but you never forget, and you always wonder. Anyway, just remember the good times spent with her, or maybe even imagine a personal Valhalla that she exists in. I like to think all my deceased pets are somewhere keeping my grandma company.