Goodbye, Felix
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Written by Kodi Wolf at 8:46 PM
This morning, I put my cat Felix to sleep. She'd been losing weight for the past few months and we'd been trying her on different foods and medications to try to get her to eat, but nothing worked. The vet thought she might have had intestinal cancer, but we don't know for sure since we weren't going to put her under anesthesia to do a biopsy to find out and we have no need to pay for that information after the fact. Knowing wouldn't have helped us help her anyway and it won't bring her back now.
Whatever was wrong with her, she wouldn't or couldn't eat enough to maintain her weight and muscle mass. She'd been getting progressively weaker and what we referred to as "wobbly." Whenever she tried to walk, her hindquarters would sort of lag behind and she couldn't compensate fast enough, so she'd end up walking a zig-zag or else falling over.
The past few days, she just deteriorated so fast. She'd been managing to navigate to her food/water dishes and litter box, and then coming back to me to be held while she slept, but then she got to the point where getting up was an effort. She stopped eating and was just barely drinking water. She tumbled off the bed at one point when she tried to jump down, and then later when I followed her out to the kitchen, she just sort of sat down, leaning against the fridge for support, and it was like she was either too tired to walk back to the bedroom, or she couldn't remember where she was or what she was doing.
Then she looked up at me, which is something she almost never did. She rarely ever made eye contact with me, she would always look to the side. But she actually looked up at me, and I know I'm anthropomorphizing here, but it was like she just didn't know what was going on and wanted help. I picked her up and started crying because I knew it was time and I didn't want it to be.
But that was when I finally decided I had to let her go no matter how much it hurt. So I stayed up with her most of the night and then Corene called the vet in the morning and we took her in.
Felix Wolf (as my vet calls her) was put to sleep around 8:45am, Winter Solstice Eve, December 20, 2012. She was born sometime on Friday, January 13, 1995. She was 3 weeks and 3 days short of her 18th birthday.
Everything I said about her mother, Akasha (March 7, 2009), is pretty much true for Felix. I can't seem to stop crying, regardless of how much my face hurts from it. I just want her back and in my arms so I can hold her and pet her and feel her nuzzle my chin and cuddle into me as she purrs loud enough to be heard from the other side of the room.
In Pagan terms, Felix was my familiar, my animal guide. She taught me the power of love, and I know that's what's going to get me through. Focusing on how much I love her helps lessen the pain, if only a little, but I know over time it will get better.
I've already dreamed about her (I was so exhausted from crying and being up all night and this morning that I finally crashed and slept for a few hours this afternoon). In the dream, there were several versions of her: a couple fluffy, curious kittens playing hide and seek with each other and looking for trouble to get into, and then one version of her as a healthy adult, standing erect and alert, as she stared off into the distance like she was keeping watch or standing guard. I was able to pet the adult version and she was how I remember her from a few years ago, back when she was overweight (about 12 lbs) and had this strip of flabby skin that would hang down between her hind legs and swing back and forth as she walked. It was always funny to watch her waddle like that. I used to play with it, jiggling it when she stood on my lap, which kind of annoyed her, but it would get her to lie down and settle rather than just stand there.
Around the time Kash got sick, Felix started losing weight, but she just came down to a healthy weight for her, which was around 6 to 7 lbs. It was only in the last year or so that she started making us worry by going under 6 lbs, then under 5 lbs, and finally the last time we weighed her at home (yesterday), she was only 4 lbs.
At the moment, I'm pretty much exhausted. We've already picked up the food and water bowls and removed the litter boxes, as well as the cat tower. I just can't deal with the reminders right now and we don't plan to get more cats for the time being. I'm afraid I would resent any new cats for not being Felix and I need time to grieve. In the past, every pet I've ever had has come to me; I've never sought them out. So maybe that's how it will work in the future, if I'm ever ready again. I hope I will be, but right now it just hurts too much to think about.
I'm really not ready to let her go, but I also know I never will be. All night, I kept saying in my head, "Just one more day," but I would always want one more day. If I hadn't let her go when I did, she could have really hurt herself from falling and then she would've been in pain on top of everything else. I hate that she's gone, but at least I know she's not suffering anymore.
I love you, Felix. I miss you more than it's possible to say.
Felix
January 13, 1995 — December 20, 2012
