Scratch This: Dealing with the hardest day in your life

On Sunday, I had Mildred, my beloved 23-year-old kitty, gently put to sleep in her favorite place in my house. It wasn’t my first time saying goodbye to a pet — I’ve lived with cats since I was 4, and I’ve said goodbye to 11 of them through the years. I’ll likely have to do it again.

As you probably know, saying goodbye to a pet isn’t something you get good at. Like people, they’re all different, and we feel each loss intensely because of that no matter how many times you do it.

My grief took the usual path: denial, trying to fix her, unwillingly facing reality, getting a recommendation for at-home euthanasia, biting my lip and making the call, suffering flashes of guilt at the thought of killing my buddy. My friends Deborah and Bryan walked with me through all the stages.

As I write this, I feel my stomach clench as I remember watching the vet get out of his car with a blanket and a medical case. He and I talked quietly about the same things that I imagine he’s talked about with other pet parents.

I held Mildred, committing to memory the feel of her fur on my arms as she received an injection that put her into a gentle sleep and another that sent her on her way. After the vet left, I wailed.

When is it time?

It’s never a good time, but when it’s time, you do it for the pet.

“It sounds hokey, but you really can see it in their eyes,” Susan Nichols said. “One day, they look at you and you know — you just know it’s time. I believe they’re telling me it’s OK, you can let me go. It’s extremely hard and never, ever, ever gets any easier.”

When I came to the realization that I’d have to put Mildred to sleep, I read pet-bereavement articles until my eyes fell out, including one I’d written 15 years ago. I wasn’t looking for hope or magic, but for comfort for my own feelings. When the day came and she’d gone, I decided to honor Mildred by writing a new article to help support other people. Nothing in “The Empty Chair” is outdated — grief will forever be the flip side of love — but I could provide new resources and share ideas and observations from other people about the most difficult decision they’ve made.

Of the five stages of grief, denial and bargaining are the toughest for me, but they eventually become obviously futile. When I brought Mildred home from the specialist veterinarians and found what kind of hell I’d have to put a sick, weak 23-year-old cat through, I knew what I had to do. Mildred was looking at me and crying in ways she’d never had before. “Please, Friend, can’t you do something? Anything?” she seemed to be saying.

“I am facing this exact situation now with my dog,” Patti Hameta said. “She’s almost 14, and her motor skills are going fast. I look into her eyes trying to see if the answer is there. Yesterday, her eyes didn't sparkle, and I know it's time, but I keep praying she will spring back. In my heart, I know what needs to be done, but it is the hardest decision to make.”

Ewa Enrique made the decision for Dexter, her longtime shelter foster, after six months of treatment failed to help him out of his kidney failure.

“When I saw him with IV attached to his arm, heard that he had been fed by tube and held his unresponsive body, eyes glossy not registering my presence, I called the shelter and asked to let him go immediately,” Enrique said. “I couldn’t bear his misery. He fell asleep in my arms a few minutes later, hugged and kissed by me and my daughter. It was a merciful decision.”

And there’s the guilt — did I wait too long? Did I do it too soon? I couldn’t reconcile myself to the idea that I was in effect condemning my trusting friend to death.

“Some people are left with the guilt of ‘I can’t euthanize my pet’ or ‘I didn’t do everything I could,’” said Jinny De La Hoya, DVM, medical director at Bixby Animal Clinic. “It’s a difficult one, but sometimes we wait a little bit too long — it’s more for us than our pets. We have the ability to provide painless euthanasia where they aren’t going to suffer anymore. I think it’s an amazing thing we can do for our pets. Everything unfortunately comes to an end, including suffering, and we’re so lucky to be with them at the end.”

Beverly Leifer has lived with many cats and has said goodbye many times. She sent off Riga, a terminally ill cat, before the cat showed inevitable signs of deterioration.

“She was doing okay, but I didn’t want her to go downhill,” Leifer said. “I wanted to remember her at her best. I didn’t want her to get super sick.”

Animals can’t say “I don’t feel good” to us, so we have to watch for signs — trouble urinating or doing it too often, loss of appetite, mobility issues, bloody discharge, hiding — and get them to a veterinarian right away. De La Hoya recommends a quality of life assessment to address concerns and run diagnostics to see if they can determine the condition and whether it’s treatable or manageable.

If it’s treatable, wonderful, but will it affect the animals’ quality of life? And is it cost prohibitive? That’s heartbreaking.

“[It could be] not only a bad quality of life for your pet but for yourself,” De La Hoya said. “Most people reasonably know when it’s time, and vets are lucky enough to provide a service where we can end suffering and allow the owner to be there.”

Where do you go on the worst day of your life?

There are options for gentle death. Many people go to their veterinarian or contact an in-home euthanasia service to come to the home, where the pet is most comfortable.

“I had my first husky put to rest in my home by my vet,” Jyll Marie Burak said. “It was so peaceful — it really was good for me and, I assume, good for him.”

Your pet’s condition might be so dire that you’ll have to say goodbye at the vet’s office. If you do, ask the vet to let you hold your friend on your lap. Even if you think you can’t bear it, you may later wish you had done it. I bear witness to that.

In the best of worlds, everyone could afford to have a vet visit their home for a gentle goodbye. Even in a veterinary office, euthanasia isn’t cheap. It’s sad to have to seek out an inexpensive procedure, but if you’re in such a situation, call neighborhood animal shelters to see if they can do humane euthanasia, or call low-cost veterinary clinics like CAMP and tell them your situation. Afterward, do something personal to memorialize your friend.

Wherever you go, Dr. De La Hoya tells her clients to have a Yes Day the day before saying goodbye. This lets your pet have whatever they want, eat whatever they want, do whatever they want, even if it’s sleeping. If that’s all they can do, curl up next to them, which is what I did for Mildred.

“It’s the one time your dog can eat chocolate, if the animal still wants to eat,” De La Hoya said. “We had an amazing owner whose dog had bone cancer. They took him to the beach, fed him whatever he wanted. He ate three slices of pizza at the vet’s office.”

Grieve in your own way, your own time

Grief takes its own time, and it’s personal. Some people grieve more for their animal companions than they do for human beings  — animals love unconditionally, and you can’t find better listeners.

You do you. Cry it out. If you know the grief is stuck in there somewhere but you’re afraid to let it out, you can help it along by reading a poem about loss or listen to a song. I played the second verse of “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Billie Holiday when Mildred died. No matter how mawkish, if it brings on the tears, it’s done its work.

If other pets live in the house, they might grieve, too. I had a cat who walked around the house crying incessantly when her feline buddy died. I picked her up and talked to her each time. We comforted each other.

Dr. Larry Lachman is a clinical psychologist who has made a career of studying the bond between humans and the animals who share their lives. His article The Disparaged Grief has excellent guidelines for going through this sad time. He also suggests ways to support friends who’ve lost pets when words fail them.

Then, there are the people who really don’t have the words or the heart, apparently. “It’s just a dog/cat/rabbit”? Really? How do you say that to someone who’s just lost a bed warmer, lap warmer, soul warmer, constant friend?

“What flabbergasts me the most is the continuing disparaging, discounting and potentially destructive comments made by both well-meaning and misguided people to the person mourning his or her beloved pet,” Lachman wrote in his article. “As a culture or society, we seemed to have actually gone backwards in our empathy and understanding of the human/animal companion bond and the normal and real pain of grief that occurs when that bond is irrevocably broken.”

If anyone says or writes that it’s ridiculous to mourn a mere animal, wipe the schmutz from your feet and leave, or form your own response. “And you’re a mere human” works for me. You don’t need to explain yourself — it’s your grief and you have a right to it.

I’ll be seeing you…

“I have the ashes of all my pets — somehow, it gives me peace, like they are at home with me,” Burak said.

As with grieving, you’ll remember your pet in your own way. Community organizer Justin Rudd named Rosie’s Dog Beach and Riley’s Red Wagon book swap to memorialize two of his beloved bulldogs. If we could go that big, we would, but so many ways within reach exist to keep our memories.

Veterinary clinics and at-home euthanasia doctors often provide clay discs with an impression of the pet’s pawprint. You can donate to a charity or a rescue in your pet’s name or buy a tile at a shelter, keep an urn or a cedar box with their cremains in a place where you can talk to them, or order jewelry made specially to hold ashes or fur. Pet megasupplier Chewy has a selection of keepsakes, or you can ask friends for references.

Susan Peszat has a memorial wall in her home for mementos of the dogs she’s shared her life with. “Each dog I've lost has their cedar box urn with an inscribed plaque, surrounded by a clay pawprint, tiny bottle of fur, favorite photos, their favorite toy and a stuffed animal in their likeness wearing their collar with their tags,” Peszat said. “Though it never gets easier to say goodbye, I feel truly so blessed to have been able to share my life with such wonderful dogs, many from very difficult pasts. Though I miss them all dearly, I celebrate the time we had together and deeply cherish the many memories.”

Know that picking up your pet’s cremains can be a saddening reminder of the day you said goodbye.

“I had my first dog cremated 25 years ago, and I will never do it again,” Patti Mysior said. “Although I have his ashes in a cedar box in my home, it was so painful to relive his death about three weeks after the event, when it was time for me to go and pick him up. I now keep framed pictures of mine who have passed on my bookshelf.”

Photos, toys they played with every day, favorite dishes and anything your friend had contact with all bring back good times.

“For every dog I’ve ever had, I kept their collar with tags and their leash,” Erin Zhou said. “I hang them by the front door right with my current dogs. They are never gone, never forgotten.”

Our phones have files and files of photos. If they’re not organized into subfolders, so what? Random photos of you and your buddy popping up are way more cosmic.

Janet McWhorter created a shadow box from photos and physical mementos of her cat Sparky.

“We all know in our breaking heart when it's time,” Mel Johnson said. “Listen to your heart. It might scream 'breaking,' but that's because it knows.”

If you’ve loved someone strongly enough to break your heart, they’ll be with you forever. Mildred, thank you for the 20 years. I hope I dream of you.

Thank you to the friends who helped me with this column and who walk with everyone through their own grief.

RESOURCES

In-home euthanasia

Hearts and Halos

Dr. Marchi, Pet Euthanasia at Home

Furrever Friends (cremation and keepsakes only)

Lower-cost veterinary clinics

CAMP-LA

Fix Long Beach

Ask your pets’ veterinarian for resources

Call local shelters as a last resort

Grief-support resources (some of these have free services; donations suggested)

Lap of Love, includes pet-loss support

PetCloud, aggregate of grief-support services

Pet Loss Community, grief support, free downloadable PDF

Rainbow Bridge, forums, chat rooms, memorials

UC Davis support group

Remember that your friends who get it are often your best resources

YOURS DROOLY

In the film “Harold and Maude,” Maude, feeling that 80 years on the planet was enough, took a lethal dose of sleeping pills. Young Harold was overwrought with grief and wailed, “But Maude, I love you!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Harold!” Maude said before drifting off forever. “Now, go out and love some more.”

That, of course, isn’t easy to take to heart if you’re grieving, and it didn’t seem to be easy for Harold, either. But if your grief has taken you to a place where you’re ready to love again, or if you just want somebody to love, here are three shelter kitties who can sure use that love.

To adopt or foster one of these cats or any pet at Long Beach Animal Care Services, email PetAdopt@longbeach.gov or petfoster@longbeach.gov to speed the process, or call 562-570-7387. Better yet, visit them in person at 7700 E. Spring St., Long Beach, near the entrance to El Dorado Park. No parking fee for shelter visitors.

Meet Simi (ID#740074), a lovely seal point Siamese who came in as a stray in April. She's 3 years old and weighs 7 ½ pounds. As you can see, she’s trying to keep her weight up. Simi was injured and has two pelvic fractures, so she needs four to six weeks of kennel rest. The volunteers know nothing of this beauty's past, but they will tell you that Simi is an angel wrapped in fur, and she needs a caring, quiet home. She will return all the love you can give her!

Isn’t she lovely? Your home needs Elsie ID (#736784), and for more than decorative purr-poses! This colorful calico recently came to the shelter with her littermate. Elsie is 2 years old and weighs 8 ½ pounds. She's as sweet as candy — she loves company and will sit on your lap for pets and treats. If that isn’t cat love, what is? Come to the shelter and visit with Elsie on the catio!

Handsome Rudy (ID#739313) came to the shelter as a stray in April. Here he is in orange-and-white statue mode. He’s a 3-year-old boy with heterochromia, which is the smart word for different-color eyes. So unique! Rudy has stomatitis (the smart word for mouth inflammation), and he takes steroids for his condition. He's also had dental work done. But he’s sure not cranky! He's a sweetie who enjoys pets and chin scritches. Please come visit Rudy and see for yourself how great he is!

TAIL-WAGGIN' AND NOSE-BOOPIN' EVENTS

LBACS needs fosters for dogs

Long Beach Animal Care Services’ dog kennels are once again near capacity, and they are really in need of fosters for large breed dogs, over 30 pounds. The usual foster requirement is to keep a dog for a minimum of 30 days, but if current LBACS volunteers can take in a dog for at least a week that would be a huge help with our current lack of space. And if you want to keep them longer, like forever, that’s fine, too, but no pressure!

If you're interested, please contact petfoster@longbeach.gov and fill out an application form here. Big dogs don’t get picked as often as the little ones, and there are so many of them. Being cooped up in a kennel for long periods causes them stress, and no one gets to see how great they really are. If you can foster, you’ll see just that.

Fix Long Beach, Friends of Long Beach Animals and Santa Fe Importers Deli offer a menu of male-dog neuter deals

I cannot express this better than this ad does. Have a ball.

Cool Cat Collective’s Zine fest

Zines are DIY self-published booklets that can be about anything, and in this case, it’s cats. Cool Cat Collective, the Fourth Street boutique-cum-gallery-cum-kitty rescue, will present its first-ever Cat Zine Fest the weekend of June 27, and they’re looking to fill the shop with zines about cats or featuring the little skeezicks, cat butts, fantastical cats, your own cat, your neighbor’s cat, a dream you had where you were a cat — the only limit is your imagination!

Illustrators, writers, collage artists, all artists are welcome! Please send all submissions to meow@coolcatcollective.co. General concepts due immediately; once your spot is confirmed, physical copies will be due by June 13. The inaugural Cat Zine Fest will be a weekend long celebration of cats and the zine medium. Cool Cat Collective will donate $1 from every zine sold to their rescue partner @tippedears. The more zines folks submit and the more that sell, the more kitties will be saved!

The Cat Zine Fest takes place on 4^th Friday, June 27, 6 p.m. at Cool Cat Collective, 2741 E. Fourth St., C, Long Beach.

Need a low-cost veterinarian, information about trapping community cats, places to volunteer, rescues and shelters to adopt from — anything pet related?Follow this link for resources. Please add your own ideas in the Comments section.