(This post follows on from ‘Ready for goodbye?’ posted 04 June 2012)
Calvin had a horrible night last night. It was clear she was in pain, and stressed, and in her desperation she sprayed on the rug. Other than cuddle there was not much she seemed to want to do. Then she kept me up all night, retching and vomiting. This morning she finally fell into a deep sleep and I hoped that might perk her up (it normally would).
When she woke she wasn’t quite herself and started pawing herself again (a sign of pain). Her brother Quentin invited her for a play-fight to which she responded with aggression. It was clear she wasn’t well, but we had an appointment at the vet’s this afternoon anyway and I figured we’d get adjusted (pain) medication for her which would make her comfortable for a few more weeks.
The vet detected Calv’s heart now had a murmur, and was weakening under the strain of the pain and stress she was enduring. And although I didn’t feel quite ready to say goodbye to her, I realised that for all the moments of cuddles, naps and purs I still enjoyed with her, Calv was slowly paying a price. She didn’t deserve this. So the vet and I decided there and then to let Calvin go today.
It feels too soon. Too soon for me, for sure. Too soon for her?
Possibly. But she’s at peace and without pain now.
Her spirit left her as I held her. A little while later, through my tears, I had a vision of Calv climbing into my late dog Sammy‘s basket and cuddling up against him like she used to do when she was still a tiny kitten.
At my request, the veterinary surgery arranged for Calvin’s physical remains to be donated to a university where tomorrow’s vets are trained. Updated: Calvin’s remains were cremated.