Sam
April 26, 2006 - January 2, 2017
On January 2nd, 2017, we lost our cat Sam. I mentioned this in my previous entry, but have put off writing about it because it's so painful. I will try to get through this without crying. I doubt I succeed.
In early to mid December, Sam looked thinner than normal, but I just figured he was being finicky since eating some turkey around Thanksgiving and wanted people food more than his own food.
Sometime around the week of Christmas I noticed he was eating little to nothing at all. I changed his food and he ate a pretty good amount of it that first serving, but then stopped eating again. So then we tried canned food, but he would only lick the gravy. Then I got desperate and tried giving him anything I thought he might like (shredded cheese, bacon, milk) just to get some food in him and he ate a little bit of it, but not nearly enough and his appetite didn't improve.
Thursday, December 29th, I brought him to the vet and they checked his blood, urine, etc. It didn't look good. UTI, possible thyroid issues, possible liver problems. The results of the blood work came back the next day. Thyroid was fine, but he had pancreatitis and liver problems. They wanted me to bring him to the emergency vet that evening (they open at 6:00 PM) and have them put in a feeding tube and treat his pancreas and liver.
It was hard bringing him there and leaving him. I missed him right away, but believed that they could get him better. I called the vet that night, a few times on Saturday, and a few times on Sunday. One of his liver values (whatever that is) was slightly improving, but one remained the same and another (bilirubin) continued to get worse.
His liver was failing. He probably had fatty liver disease.
On Monday morning, January 2nd, Charlie, Kelly, and I went to the emergency vet to get Sam. We thought, based on what one person we talked to there told us, that there was a chance we could treat him at home (feed him through the feeding tube, give him his medicine) and that eventually he would get better. Could be weeks or even months, but he could get better, we thought. But we were told something different when we got there. They told us he was too sick to go home and needed more 24-hour care at a special hospital.
We brought Sam to our regular vet (the emergency vet told us to take Sam directly to our regular vet) and she looked at the paperwork from the emergency vet and brought Sam to the back. She wasn't optimistic. She said the same thing the emergency vet said about needing 24-hour care at a special hospital and that it could take weeks or longer. Which would cost us thousands of dollars a week (money we don't have) and he still may not ever get better.
She said they could do some blood work to see if there was any improvement since the previous morning (the last time his blood had been checked), but even if there had been improvement, we didn't have the money to continue treatment. And since there was no guarantee, and really a very small chance, that he would get better, we didn't really see that we had any other choice. We decided against having his blood checked again and made the horrible, painful choice to have him to put to sleep.
I broke down crying, as I'd done several times while he was at the emergency vet because I had a feeling after talking to them on Saturday morning that he wouldn't get better. It broke my heart to have to do this to my sweet boy.
Kelly was crying too.
They brought Charlie and I to a back room to spend some time with Sam and say goodbye. Kelly stayed in the exam room. I guess she couldn't bring herself to say goodbye to him.
He still had the feeding tube in his neck and a cone around his head, so I wasn't able to hug him like I wanted to. I just kind of laid my head on his back. I petted him a lot, kissed him several times, talked to him. Told him how much I loved him and always would. That he would always be my sweet baby boy, my Boo Boo, my Sugar Booger. I cried a lot. Went through a lot of tissues. He rubbed my hands with his chin many times; something he always loved doing. And he looked at me with those big, sweet eyes full of love for me, like he always did. It made it that much harder to say goodbye with him being his usual sweet self. How can I put my baby to sleep when he's acting like his normal self?
I spent about 30-45 minutes with him. I would've spent more time with him than that, but we could see how uncomfortable he was with that cone and feeding tube. He wanted to lay down, but the cone prevented him. And he kept wanting to scratch his left ear, but couldn't get to it. (How long had it been itching with no one to scratch it for him? All weekend?) So Charlie and I scratched it for him.
I never felt ready to call the vet in to get him and take him away to put him to sleep. I was never ready to say goodbye. But as I said, we could see that he wasn't comfortable and Charlie finally said (after I'd told him that a couple times I'd thought about having them come get him, but then I'd cry again because I couldn't do it) he'd go get the vet.
I told Sam that I was sorry that he was so sick, sorry that we couldn't get him better (cats hide when they're sick, often until it's too late), and sorry that we had to have him put to sleep. I told him I love him over and over and that I would miss him so much.
When the vet came in, we talked awhile about Sam (how sweet he is, different things about him) and about our other pets. I told her about how we'd just lost our cat Evie six months ago. And just different cute and funny things about all our pets.
One final goodbye pet, one final look. Charlie went to the front desk to take care of the bill and I walked out to the car with Kelly. I cried as I left the vet's office, cried in the car several times, and have cried every day since.
Sam (full name Samwise Gamgee, after the character in The Lord of the Rings) was the sweetest cat in the world. He was a total mama's boy. If he wasn't sleeping, eating, or using the litter box, he had to be wherever I was. Often right on top of me. He loved snuggling up to me, sleeping next to me or on me. Whenever I was in the kitchen cooking, he would either lie on the back of the couch facing the kitchen to watch me, or he'd sit on the kitchen floor and watch me.
When I would do the dishes, he would lie on the carpet in front of the kitchen and watch me until I was done or he fell asleep.
I'll miss him always being there with me. Always watching me. Always wanting to rub on me or be petted by me or Kelly. He loved attention, loved affection. He loved being held, hugged, kissed, petted.
He had such sweet meows and such sweet big eyes. I could tell when he looked at me that he loved me. He wanted nothing more than to be with me (if he wasn't with Kelly or sleeping) and to be loved and shown affection.
I had a lot of nicknames for him. In addition to Sweet Baby Boy, Sugar Booger, and Boo Boo, I also called him Sammy, Sammy Sam, Sam Wham, the sweetest baby alive, Skinny-Butted Bow-legged Crooked Runner, Sweeter, Samber, Samber Whamber (Charlie called him Sammer Whammer), Sam Wham Alabam, Sweet Baby, Baby Boo. There may be others I'm not thinking of at the moment.
His death has left an empty place in my life. I have no fur baby to cuddle with or who is affectionate towards me like Sam was. Milo (Charlie's Jack Russell) growls at me when I pick him up (though I pick him up anyway lol), Pippin (our toy poodle) has horrible breath and drools because his tongue hangs out (I don't want to hold him, though he's a very sweet dog), and Sadie (our black cat, who will be 15 in April) doesn't like to be held, hugged, or kissed. She will hiss, growl, bite, and/or scratch if you pick her up. She is not a lap cat. lol But she does love to be petted and seeks out affection from us. Since Evie and Sam have died, she comes around a lot more, wants our attention more, and is more vocal.
We would love to go to the shelter and get a kitten, but it wouldn't be fair to Sadie. She's an old lady and doesn't deserve the stress of a new pet. She's never liked any of our other pets. And I like that we see her more (a new kitty would drive her away again and we wouldn't see her as much) and can have more interaction with her. As much as I'd love to get a new kitty, I have to think of Sadie. I don't know how much time we have left with her. She could die this year or she could be one of those cats that lives a long time. After having Sam put to sleep, I told Sadie that she had to live for at least another year or two. I don't want to lose another pet so soon after Evie and Sam.
Our dog Pippin will be 12 on March 31st. He won't live much longer either. A couple more years at most.
One thing I've learned from this (besides don't give your pets people food at all, unless it's approved by the vet) is that if you're going to have more than one pet, adopt them far apart in age. That way you don't lose them back to back. Or rather, you have a better chance of not losing them close together. Some die young. Our cat Witty was just seven when he died in 2002.
I'm going to end this blog entry with some of my favorite pictures of Sam.
September 24, 2006. Five months old. We'd had him a couple days or so when this was taken.
October 17, 2006. Almost 6 months old.
December 11, 2006. About 7½ months old.
September 14, 2008. 2 years old.
March 2, 2009. Almost 3 years old.
November 23, 2014. 8 years old. Snuggling with Kelly.
February 26, 2015. Almost 9 years old. Lying near my face. It was a difficult picture to take.
December 2016. 10 years old. This is the spot he would lie on to watch me cook in the kitchen.
December 25, 2016. 10 years old. The last picture I took of him.
Sam's paw prints. I got this from the vet this past Monday.
The regular vet and the emergency vet both sent us sympathy cards.
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~*~Nocturnal Queen~*~
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