Jonesy cat......

On the evening that my husband told me Jonesy was dying I cried......and cried......and cried. I know it is daft to do that over just a cat, but I had no idea it would hit me so hard. I shocked myself with the reaction I had to the news! Jonesy seemed perfectly okay, and pretty nonchalant that we were having a breakdown over his illness. He ate just fine, drank, trotted about meowing for attention, and curled up with me on the sofa. Over the last few weeks Jonesy had got into the habit of standing on his hind legs and stretching up my legs when he wanted attention, so I would reach down and pick him up, and hoist him over my shoulder. In fact I would end up carrying him around like a baby, with his front legs dangling, as he gazed about in satisfaction at the world around him. He had become one pampered cat indeed...... and everyone in the family would tease me about it. I would snuggle my head into his fur and mutter to him......I had become the 'mad cat woman' it seems (or so my sons and hubby told me, lol) It was important for me to go and talk to the vet myself, even though i knew she would give the same diagnosis. I had questions I wanted to ask. I needed the vet to tell me face to face. We made an appointment very quickly and took Jonesy back with us. I think, deep down, I wanted the vet to say there was a mistake.....that Jonesy was actually okay....but as she checked him out again, and I watched her, I knew what she would say. The illness was making him retain fluids, which in turn was making his body swell and compress his organs. He was putting on weight rapidly, even though his limbs were thin. His stomach had become round and hard,  and as the vet explained about the organs becoming compressed, I realised that where I had thought Jonesy was being cute with his 'sighs' recently, it was actually because his lungs were being squashed by the fluid. He was finding it hard to breath properly. How had I missed that? My husband had asked for diuretics to help, and the vet had provided us with them, even though she said in the end it would not help. Very gently the vet explained that we were going to have to make a hard decision soon. Jonesy would become uncomfortable, and it was important for him to have a good quality of life.....therefore we needed to think about having him put to sleep. I was due a week's holiday 3 weeks ahead and I mentioned that. As the vet told me Jonesy would not make it that far, I began to cry. I couldn't help it. I just felt so sad and so angry. It was the beginning of the week....I was due to have the weekend off work. As we came home I knew that I would not wish to be at work the day after Jonesy died. I knew in my heart that the coming weekend would be the right time.  Cuddling Jonesy later, I said very little to the family. What was there to say.