I CONFESS
Last week, Neil and I had to make the very difficult decision to let our kitty, Isabella, go. Her chemotherapy wasn't working, we tried another medication, and that really didn't work. Her lymphoma was aggressive, which they had told us from the beginning, but we still hoped. Tried.I was at home, Neil was at the vet with her. He called me. Told me that the medication wasn't working. Her tumor had increased in size. Told me all the options the vet had told him. I chose to have one more week with her, I wasn't ready yet. I mean, how do you even begin to make that choice?
I've had a lot of pets in my life, so this isn't my first loss, but it is the first one that I had to be responsible for. Growing up, that is something my mom or older brother took care of. Honestly, I never really thought of those animals as truly "gone", just not in my life anymore.
This is the first pet loss for my husband, and he is wrapped in guilt thinking he could have saved her if we knew sooner. Or tried more options. Something.
We were both there for her, with her favorite penguin toy. I hope she knew just how much we love her and how much we will miss her.
So many moments trying not to cry.
At the grocery store, trying to find treats for her last meals.
Taking our last Saturday nap together.
Making her go in the carrier for her last trip.
I'm so thankful that she wanted so many cuddles on her last days, instead of hiding and avoiding us. I know the last two days were difficult for her, and I'm glad she sought us out for comfort. I'm thankful that she especially cuddled so much with my husband, in ways she never did before, I think he really needed that.
Our vet and staff were just lovely and very respectful, and the whole ordeal was so surreal for me. My husband and I spent time with her after, reminiscing, touching her little paw that she never let us touch, and then gave her our last kisses.
My husband wrote a really sweet message on his Instagram, I'll share it here:
She wasn't always the easiest cat. We bottle fed her and she bit the nipple off. She took weeks to potty train. We had to cover our couch in plastic because she'd just be covered in pee when we came home. Heather had to sleep in the bathroom with her for that entire time. She used to run as fast as she could around the couch and try to run up our walls. She'd sit on our dresser and stare at the wall and yell at it. She wasn't all there. But she was loving. And sometimes that came out as her biting you. We both have the scars of that love.Slowly with age, she mellowed out. She would groom herself meticulously, no more pee kitten. She learned to bite less. I learned when she needed to bite so I'd let her gnaw on my fist. She learned to give gentle kisses.
Even in her final days, she was as beautiful as ever. She showed me so much love since she started her chemo and she fought so hard. She would lay on me and just stare into my eyes as she would drift in and out of sleep. She is the first pet I ever lost and she's gone much too early, but it was time to say goodbye.
Thank you Izze for every scar and kiss. I will never forget you, you crazy little love monster.
