Sebastian has been a part of my family for 8 years. He was a special cat – super social, very dog-like in his desire to please, constantly craving attention and affection, vocal and friendly. I’ve never met a cat quite like him, and I don’t know if I ever will again.
I took him to the vet last week due to lack of appetite and the fact he was lethargic and had been sneezing through the weekend. They said he was running a fever, checked him for anything else, and sent him home with antibiotics.
These seem to improve his disposition for a few days, but then on Monday of this week, he started losing appetite again. I knew my vet was open until noon on Saturdays, so I called and they brought him right in this morning.
At first, I thought this was going to be a blood test and possibly something treatable with the liver. But when the vet examined him this time, she found a mass in his stomach and also ordered an X-ray.
The X-ray revealed a cancerous tumor in his stomach. They showed me the results and it was almost as large as my fist. He wasn’t eating because he couldn’t… and I was given the choice to take him home with appetite simulators (so I could “spend time with him”) or say goodbye.
Though he didn’t seem to be in terrible pain, I was warned the tumor could rupture, which would be horrible pain for the cat. And while having more time with him was an option, I knew that it would just be a lengthening of a tearful situation that was meant to comfort me… not to see to the good of the cat.
No matter what I did, it didn’t escape the fact there was nothing to treat this. Whether it be today or next week, I’d have to put him down. The thought of that lingering sorrow and anxiety for days was (to me) worse than simply making a clean good-bye.
And though my words here are somewhat making light of it, it hurts more than I can really express in writing. Sebastian was an empathetic cat, in tune with emotion and truly loved people in a special way.
I decided it was best not to delay what I couldn’t change and said good-bye to him at the vet’s office today. They allowed me to be there, and he peacefully passed away mere seconds after the injection.
I know it was the right thing to do – even the vet said that it would be her choice – but I have a lot of grief to work through. His loving presecnce at the window when I come home from work every day and first thing in the morning at the bedroom door, and how much he loved to share laps for hours… the way he “talked” to ask me for things, and just his companionship overall… I know I’m going to miss that for a long time.
I hope the Rainbow Bridge does something nice for the Holidays, Sebastian.