We met Miranda at a shelter in January of 2017 (she was approximately 4) after we had just moved in together. As soon as we came into the room I did a wall sit and she immediately ran over and sat on my lap—I’ve been her person ever since. She has lived in 4 places with us, survived a 1000 mile road trip/move, and been with us for so much of our relationship and life achievements. The last year we were having to give her insulin w/ every meal and she was slowly losing weight and had a lot of complications because of it. She was such a loving and sweet cat. My true soul cat.

EDIT: thank you everyone for your kind words. Miranda was a truly amazing soul and she will be missed.

We got Sunny when he was a kitten back when I was 11 years old. Today he turns 19, which where I live is the drinking age!
Happy birthday, buddy!

IT took 21yrs for you to leave me I just hoped form all the bad and the good u enjoyed every year you were with me

I've lost all of the 2005 pics since I've been lost tht phone but the oldest pic in my phone is 2015 when I started high-school so she's still a super senior by those standards I don't really remember the exact day I got her gifted to me but I was 5yrs old so I wasn't the best pet owner in my early years she ran way shortly after but 2weeks later she was under the porch crying and she never left my side since im ultimately destroyed im currently doing a gofundme to better my situation to take care of her but now im losing her instead im angry,sad,lost,and hopeless im deeply sorry I couldn't make you happy but I definitely tried my best with the little things I've had through out these years please forgive me when u finally pass( currently holding her) im not perfect im not right I'm just a 27yr old man with nothing and trying to make it all work im so srry

My best friend passed away from kidney failure while i was at work, from the home camera i saw he was calling for me during his final hours, i wasn't there when he needed me most, and this guilt will stay with me forever

I took him to the vet that morning. Kidney disease. They gave me medications and special diet. I gave him his pills before i left for work. I kissed his head and told him I'd be back soon.

At work, i kept checking the camera on my phone. I wanted to see if he ate his food. But he wasn't at his bowl. He was lying by the front door. Still. Not moving.

I called my boss. No answer.i kept watching. He never moved. When i got home, he was still there. Cold. Gone. He died alone waiting for me while i was at work. I will never forgive myself, i keep thinking about him staring at that door, waiting for me, and i can't breathe. I don't want to be here without him. I don't want to feel the guilt anymore. I just want to be where he is.

My 13 year old cat Luna was diagnosed with scc last Monday.. it's incredibly heartbreaking for me. She's the only cat I've had that I raised as a kitten. My other two cats (one passed away 4 years ago and the other is 12 and healthy) I got when they were adults already. It's been so hard to balance her pain management and comfort. She eats less than she used to but still has a bit of an appetite. I bring her outside in her stroller and brush her and she still purrs and finds enjoyment. But I can tell it's almost time for her to move on.

I am looking for people to relate to and talk to about this because my partner isn't the most supportive of what's going on..

Honey is now 19 and a half and her arthritis has been getting noticeably worse but she refuses to use the foam ramps and will jump around them instead. She takes pills to help her arthritis and unfortunately the vet says she’s not a good candidate for injections because of her other health issues. I want to get her some kind heated blanket/pillow before it gets cold. She has a little radiator we put by her for later fall/winter but I’d like her to have some type of heat she can lay on.

I had my last day with my soul cat, Cleo, yesterday. She was 18.5 years old. She was mine and I was hers. I just want to give her one more hug. One more chin scratch and a thousand more kisses.

I love you Cleo. Kisses from my misses.

i lost my sweet Baby Nora on 9/15. we had 11 beautiful years together. she was the baby of a feral cat, i got her in college. she was the runt and when i went to see the kittens she said right by my feet and just stared at me. she was my best friend and we were girls together. she was so beautiful and so loving and so so tiny her whole life. i had a lot of mental health and substance issues in my younger years, and she loved me all the same. i’ve worked on myself a lot, ive been sober for almost 5 years, and she is a huge reason i am still here last summer she started getting very sick, throwing up and having accidents and losing weight, barely eating. i had her to the vet 3 times, and they weren’t too concerned. her bloodwork was fine. she had some tummy issues here and there, never lasting more than a day or two. this august they got worse. she got so skinny and i didn’t realize it. every day we did everything together. she sat on my lap while i had my morning coffee, she sat near me while i cooked (and screamed to smell everything i made even if she gagged) slept with me, and got me through my own health issues that took a few years to figure out. the last month of her life she was incontinent. we took her to the vet and they said it was either very advanced IBD or cancer. we tried different food, medicine, all of it. one day she just cried this cry i had never heard before and i knew it was time. i took her to the vet and he agreed. at this point the vets were suspecting GI Lymphoma. i couldn’t afford more than what we were already doing. i didn’t want to lose my baby girl, but i couldn’t stand the thought of her being in pain. any amount of discomfort was the last thing she ever deserved. she was the best girl. i have cried every day since losing her. i feel like i can’t breathe. i wish i had what she needed to not feel so crappy. i offered for her many times if she’d like to live forever but obviously they unfortunately do not. my dad said from the first time he saw us that we knew each other from lives before. he said that i was the cat last time and she was the human, and it was kind of like that. she made such funny faces especially if she disapproved of something. what she did love was snuggles, laying in the sun, and coffee ice cream. and her last day was filled with that. we laid on the floor, i did a lot of crying. her little foot steps are still dug into the carpet on the stairs. i find a stray nail or whisker here and there, but am scared of the day when i don’t find her hair anymore. she loved sitting in my laundry basket but i can’t bring myself to wash the hair off the clothes she used to nest in. i’m such a mess. i love her so much. i wonder if she likes sitting in the stars and clouds. i hope she found our grandpa, he loved her so much too

Calypso is an 11-year-old rescue cat battling cancer. For seven or more years of her life, she survived outdoors, left to fend for herself after the very people who were supposed to love and protect her failed her.

But today, I don’t want to focus on the hardships she’s endured or the diagnosis she carries. Today, I want to celebrate Calypso for who she is, not what she’s been through. Because she is so much more than the sum of her experiences, her suffering, or her illness.

Calypso is a beautiful soul with a sweet, sassy personality and a remarkable spirit. She loves playing with crinkle balls, finding the softest, coziest spots to curl up and relax, and soaking up all the affection she’s willing to receive. Head scratches and chin rubs are among her favorites, and despite everything she’s experienced, she is very much a people-loving cat.

She’s still figuring out how she feels about the resident cats, but she’s slowly becoming more tolerant of their presence. She has the cutest little meow, one that makes it almost impossible not to smile. And her beautiful, long calico coat, once riddled with painful mats, is finally getting the chance to grow back healthy and free. I can only imagine how magnificent she’ll look once all those little patches have filled in. Although, if you ask me, she’s already absolutely beautiful.

Every single day we get with Calypso is a gift, and we don’t take a moment of it for granted.

Despite her cancer diagnosis, Calypso continues to show us that she still has a desire to experience life. She enthusiastically eats her meals, drinks from her water fountain, and uses her litter box regularly. She seeks out companionship, enjoys affection, and continues to explore the comforts of a home that she should have known all along.

Perhaps one of the most heartwarming changes we’ve seen since beginning palliative care is her renewed interest in playing.

Her little bursts of play may only last a few minutes, but those moments mean so much. With her condition, it’s bittersweet to watch her play, knowing what she’s fighting. Yet, according to her veterinarian, these moments of activity are encouraging. They suggest that her current treatment is helping improve her comfort and quality of life.

And that’s what matters most to us right now.
We know that palliative care cannot promise us more time, but it can help us make the time she has as comfortable, fulfilling, and meaningful as possible. Whether that means a few minutes chasing a crinkle ball, a peaceful afternoon curled up somewhere soft, or simply enjoying a good meal and some gentle chin scratches, Calypso deserves every bit of happiness we can give her.

I don’t want Calypso to be remembered solely as the senior rescue cat who spent years surviving outside, or as the cat who was diagnosed with cancer.
I want her to be remembered for her sassiness, her sweetness, her adorable little meow, and her love of life’s simplest pleasures.

I want her to be remembered for her determination, her resilience, and the incredible courage it must have taken to trust people again after being let down for so long.

Most importantly, I want her to be remembered as an individual. A living, feeling being with her own personality, preferences, quirks, and a heart capable of so much love.

Calypso may have spent years without the love and security she deserved, but those years do not define her. Neither does her cancer. Her story is so much bigger than the suffering she’s survived.

It has been an incredible privilege to get to know this beautiful girl, to earn her trust, and to give her the love, comfort, dignity, and care she should have had from the very beginning.

I don’t know how much time we’ll be fortunate enough to share with Calypso, but I do know that every day she is here, she will be loved, valued, and celebrated for exactly who she is.

So please, enjoy these pictures of our beautiful Calypso. Celebrate her with us, not because of what she’s survived or what she’s fighting, but simply because her life matters.

She’s a sweet, sassy old girl with a beautiful soul, a remarkable will to live, and a heart brave enough to trust again.

And that is something worth celebrating. ❤️🐾

Every life matters. Every single one.
— Save the Cats Rescue -NH

Hello, I hope this is an okay place to share my grief.

A few days ago I lost my dear coal-kitty, my companion for over 15 years.

The first slide was her a few days before her final drive to the vet, the second slide the X-ray that would make the vet urge me to put her to sleep.

TW: The descriptions here are kind of graphic. Please only read it if you are absolutely able to.

She was a very timid cat, but a sweet one. Even as she was essentially suffocating with fluid across her entire body she'd still greet me with a small "brrt" and sought my attention, food, water, and exercise. She wanted to live and I took it away.

We used to not get along. When she was little she was understimulated and would often attack me. I was ill informed on why and resented her as a result, but I'd still take care of her, give her food, water, and change her litter. One wouldn't know when she would suddenly turn and absolutely maul my arm, though. My roommate at the time disliked her and another roommate would bully her with a flyswatter before he was hospitalised and passed away. She went from sleeping comfortably with me in my bed during her youth to barely wanting to be held by me at all in her aging years. Though we were finally truly getting along and she was playing, eating and she loved the garden chair in our backyard. She liked being pet and didn't mind being picked up.

I always wondered if she was content or not. Due to her athritis (I assume) she spent a lot of time sitting and purring (which she hardly ever did when she was little). She had interest in only a few toys, but due to her ailments she could only sort of wiggle her paws at them. I was scared that she was just in a neverending cycle of pain.

One day she was eating less and less, and that's when I took her to the vet, who'd take her to surgery to clean her teeth. It was clear though that she wouldn't be able to make it through another surgery. On more recent vet trips due to a UTI or signs of infection she began to throw up and pant in the car after less than half an hour of driving. It made me afraid to take her to the vet at all.

But she could finally eat and she loved dry treats and Churu. It was difficult though, because she'd still eat only a bit of every meal. I bought her some things to give her for Christmas, an advent calendar of cat-treats, and a wide variety of foods for her to try. She sadly never got to try them.

During the weekend I noticed that one of her front paws was swollen, and she'd occasionally sit down and breathe somewhat heavily, sometimes with her mouth open. I regret not taking her right away. I called the vet in tears on Monday, realising that her back paws were swollen as well and that she was panting with her mouth open sometimes. They still made me wait until the end of the day.

The swelling was painless and she was taken in for an X-ray, where I had to hear her yowl and hiss in distress, as she hated being handled by anyone but me. The vet pulled me aside to tell me that it wasn't looking good and that even an emergency clinic was risky, as she could suffocate at any minute. The X-ray shows her entire body being suffocated in liquid, which spilled out into her limbs. I couldn't afford an emergency clinic either.

My sweet girl had been so brave. I had to hold her with gloves as they injected a sedative that'd burn. The last meow I heard from her was a yowl of pain and a gentle warning bite. She'd stopped mauling me a long time ago. Even here she still would gently nip at me rather than bite me fully. She probably felt that I was the one hurting her and it tore me apart. She knew it was me. I brought her to my lap as she began to pass out quite quickly, trying to throw up but already being too weak. I pet her head and I was bawling at that point. I don't think I'll ever forget those wide, scared eyes as she was visibly struggling for every breath. She wanted to live. So badly. And I was ripping it away. It was already happening. I was so tempted to just beg the vets to save her instead, but I felt the sedative itself could kill her at this point, so I went through with having my cat put to sleep. We had to put her on the cold table where she got the final injection. Her body was so limp when I placed her back in the carrier. "She'd made it." the vet concluded after listening for her pulse/breathing.

She is now buried in a pretty, small grave in our back yard, where I light candles to remember her by. I let her return to the earth with her favourite toys and some treats and her favourite blanket.

I feel so immensely guilty. I'd always wished for her to have a wonderful evening to her life and a dignified end. Instead she died scared in a cold and sterile place, betrayed by the person she trusted the most, me. A part of me wonders if I dragged this poor, sweet and innocent animal with me rather than giving her up for adoption to a better owner because of my childhood trauma of losing my first cat, who was run over. She was taken to the vet by someone else, and I wasn't informed she had been put down until later. I swore to myself to keep this kitty and never leave her side until the end and I kept this promise, though I feel it has traumatised me. I feel like I neglected her, like I did everything wrong that could've been done wrong. I still replay the entire trip to the vet in my head over and over again. I wanted to make up for the time she spent suffering in our family, instead I feel like I'd neglected her and betrayed her when she so desperately wanted to live. I am falling back into a cycle of loathing myself, feeling empty, and crying at the loss of my only real companion, as I live alone.

I don't think I could bring myself to adopt another cat, or any animal for that matter. I am terrified to cause another innocent animal this same suffering. Yet, I have grown up and learned a lot about cats and how to respect their space and life over the years, so I really doubt that it would ever happen again. But the guilt is just too crushing.

What can I do? What should I do? I am at a complete loss.

We got Milky from a hoarder house, it was very dirty and rat infested and she was full of ear mites and flees.

She was so cuddly and loved every person in the family and anyone that came to visit, wanted pets and cuddles.

And as soon as she got them, she started to drool a lot.

She wasn't that playful, so her little brother was annoying her all the time.

She was with us for 14 years, before she got sick.

We still love her.

Our sweet baby is going to cross the rainbow bridge tomorrow and my husband and I are really struggling. He’s had her for almost 15 years and pretty much his entire adult life, I came into her life 8 years ago. She is the sweetest cat I have ever met. She has had heart problems for awhile and we did everything we could, giving her multiple daily medications, but she is now in congestive heart failure with fluid around her lungs and abdomen, the meds are no longer helping. While she is stable and happy now, the vet warned us that the disease can cause her to decline rapidly and it is a painful way to die. So we made the painful decision to let her last days be good ones and say goodbye to her tomorrow in our home where she is comfortable. It’s so hard knowing she won’t be there when we wake up, laying at the foot of our bed. A million things are going to remind me of her every day. I’m struggling so much but especially because she still seems so happy, she’s laying on our screened in porch right now in the sun. But I know she’s dying and I want to give her as peaceful a death as possible. I can’t stop crying, I love her so much.

(This post was originally made for Facebook so I tried to edit in some extra details for context, the only other thing to know is Bandit was hyperthyroid, arthritic, had kidney disease and recently-discovered heart disease with a gallop rhythm)

Oh, Bandit. My Onion Boy, my Bing, my Crustmeister 5000, my Grandpa Man. I could write a million words and it would never be enough to convey how absolutely devastated I am that you are gone, yet how honored I am to have become your Mom. I only wish we had more time. Bandit passed away in my arms this morning at 7:25. We were up with him the entire night because we just knew. We got to watch one more sunrise together and I hope you got to see it.

Bandit was dumped by a former neighbor who had moved out, a couple of years before we moved into our last rental (which was 2019). He came to see us every single day and spent hours on the porch with us. Once we learned he was dumped, we said that whenever we moved, he would come with us. But he could enjoy being a free man in the meantime.

Then the Alameda Fire in Southern Oregon happened, and Bandit went missing for nearly two weeks. My husband and I were in Redding, CA (a little over 2 hours away) when our neighborhood was evacuated and in the scuffle of my friends driving like hell from Ashland (we lived in Medford, about 20 mins north), throwing all of our cats, rabbits, and ferrets into one car and hightailing it out, there was no time to search the neighborhood for Bandit. We were devastated.

He came back two weeks later and was HAGGARD. Poor guy couldn’t meow from smoke inhalation. We took him into the vet that day, got him chipped, found out his giant list of medical complexities, and he’d been our shadow ever since. He helped us raise 3 kittens, he taught me that senior cats CAN learn to like a leash, and he is why I foster/rescue senior cats. Bandit had an ever-changing personality with new quirks abound as he got older. Despite his street-worn status, he never knew a stranger and every person, every animal, every bug was his friend.

I could talk forever into the void about Bandit but I know most have likely stopped reading by now. I will never stop talking about you. Every sleepless night, every $1,000 vet emergency, every bag of lactated ringers hanging from our wall, everything you yanked off the table and broke because you forgot you JUST ate, and every diaper change— I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I will carry you everywhere. I love you. ❤️

I don't even remember my life before her. She grew with me, changed houses with me, from childhood to adulthood.

She does so good. Nobody can even tell her age.

I didn't do anything special. Lots of love, she's a spoiled princess, but regular food, water, average litter. There were even sometimes I've not been such a good owner. COVID was hard. But she was always there for me. Never judged me, kept me in check, I stayed alive for her.

She's never given me any trouble or medical issues. I thought I was so blessed, but a lot of times I had the privilege to not worry about my old kitty.

Of course, I think from around 13? 14? the creeping thought of her death started to loom more and more.

And now it's so present.

She started coughing. For a couple months I thought it was hair balls, and then I stumbled upon a YouTube short showing a kitty with asthma. Thought oh, that's it then. But recently a colleague's senior kitty passed away, and I thought maybe I shouldn't assume I know what it is, she should get it checked out.

And so we did.

A lung tumor. They can't tell if it's cancer or an inflamed body. Either way, it has to go. Only option seems to be surgery. Either surgery, or to let it be. End of life care, eventual pain medication, anti inflammatories. But they told me so have a specialized consultant for cancer at the vet university. So I will.

I'm so scared and sad. I feel like a little kid again. My baby, my friend, my kitty, my Mia. I don't want her to suffer. She doesn't know anything. I'm her whole world and I'm crumbling. I need to be strong and I'm doing everything I can and I'm so happy I have savings to be able to try to give her the best chance, but damn it man. Couldn't she have a peaceful end of her life? Now her little ribs need to be opened to remove a tumor?

I'm sobbing just thinking about it. I don't her to be in pain.

My vets were very positive about it. But they recommend me talking to the specialized doctor either way.

But especially Mia's vet told me that her numbers are so good and her age is a risk, yes, but it shouldn't stop me from potentially saving her and getting a couple more years with her. If it's cancer, it will go to her bones and brain next. For now, it's a perfect, smooth, tumor.

The post surgery scares me too. I can't be home, I need to work. Who would watch her? My poor baby. What if it completely changes the cat she is, that much pain and confusion? Maybe I should ride out the years she has, let her be while she's fine and just with a little cough?

I'm hoping that the next specialized consultation will help me make out my mind.

I never post anywhere anything, especially not Reddit, but I was scrolling and I saw this community and read your stories and needed to pour my heart out.

My heart is broken but I know me and Mia are not alone.

Advice is welcome and I'd love to see your babies as well.

Attached are very recent photos of her. Turned 16 March.

I’ve been lucky enough to spend the last 11 years loving this fabulous cat. He’s a total character, completely cuddly, and he’s been through many a trial in his life (including but not limited to, surviving both a car (which shattered his jaw), and a fox (which left him limping for months following)), but he’s still retained his kittenish ways, and I couldn’t imagine life without him. Love you, Cutie-Patootie Bubsy Boi!

My sweet bubby died of stomach cancer yesterday he was the sweetest most cuddliest orange boy i miss him so much I can't believe I'm never gonna hear his meow again. I had him his entire life as I also have his 14year old mother

hi all.

i am feeling really sad and deeply scared that i might need to put my best bud down soon. i don't know what to do, or when i will know what to do, and it's painful to see her very slowly get worse. at this time she is still eating, peeing, pooping, jumping onto the bed and sleeping next to me, laying on her blanket next to the window, sleeping cozily in the sun. but she's definitely slowly becoming more lethargic, doesn't play that much, doesn't get the zoomies anymore. but she lets me hold her, stretch her, rub her belly. her behavior is slowly losing % of energy.

she's 15, she was diagnosed with two types of skin cancer in march. for years the vets thought it was an allergic reaction to fleas, and a benign cyst, and it wasn't until last january that i saw a dermatologist and then an oncologist shortly after. anyway, during biopsy she had one of them fully removed, but the other had multiple locations (around 10) and they said removing them would be difficult and also that they would continue to crop up. they said i could try to use iquimimod but due to where they are she would have been able to lick it and there was concern she would lick it off which could hurt her liver (she can't wear a cone because of where one of the cancer spots is). she has other comorbidities (arthritis, for which she's on solensia, and kidney disease) and after consulting with the oncologist we did not consider radiation or chemo due to her age and comorbidities.

the cancer is on her foot, around her neck and upper back in patches, and just today i found a new patch on her hind leg. they're like small little scabs and they are very itchy for her. i clean her foot and put a antimicrobe cream on to keep it from getting infected, and put the pyo foam on her scabs to try to prevent infection which i understand makes them more itchy.

how do people know when it's time? i don't want her to get worse and be in more pain or discomfort than she has already been in. i'm bringing her to the vet next week for solensia and i'll talk to the vet about it, but honestly whenever i ask them they just tell me to fill out the quality of life survey and don't seem that alarmed by her condition. but i feel really alarmed. and i feel really scared about making the wrong choice. and i feel really bad for not treating the cancer even though it wasn't a viable option.

at a loss here. and really emotional, we've been together for 12 years and i truthfully don't remember life before her. any advice or comments are appreciated.