I've had animals my whole life. My first experience with losing a beloved cat, was my cat Sassy. We woke up and found him gone, right by my side of the bed. I was heartbroken. Over the years, I've had my share of animals pass on. Most of our animals have always been rescues and a few of them have had medical conditions that in the end, claimed them. It's always been hard, but I'm having a much harder time with this one.
CiCi was adopted in 2009. She's been with me for a long time. When I got her, it was shortly after the passing of another cat -- my buddy, Oliver. He'd been with me for close to 14 years before passing to cancer and my other cat, Isabel, was grieving bad. We thought getting her another friend might help and... so we brought CiCi hope. Isabel loved her. My mother had to reach into the back of the cage to get her though, Cici was such a scared and nervous kitten. She had been heavily abused before we adopted her and never really grew out of it. She didn't like to roam the house and preferred to stay in one room, where she felt safe. She was a GOOD cat though, very loving. She might have been 'damaged' but she was still perfect to us.
On Friday, we noticed the vent pulled up in our bathroom. We are still not sure how she pried it open, but she went in. We called everyone, the fire department, police, wildlife, animal control, no one would help us. Even our HVAC guy didn't want to get under the house to check for her. I begged him to on Saturday when I heard her. Like i begged so hard for them to listen to me and not wait, but the HVAC guy seemed adamant that she would come out on her own. So we tried everything else, catnip to lure her out, tuna by the vent opening, cans of cat food out. Finally Monday rolled around and we got them out first thing in the morning and they went under the house. They found her body, she had already died. She was stuck in the vent.
If they had just gone under when I begged them to, she'd STILL be here. If someone had helped when I asked, she'd be alive and I just am having such a hard time processing this because this just didn't need to end this way. I'm not casting blame, or i'm trying not to anyone, but I feel so angry and I get so overwhelmed thinking about how afraid she probably was and I just keep praying that she had a heart attack or something that took her quick so that she wasn't in pain, but I don't know. All I know is my baby died without me, and every time I think about it I just feel sicker and sicker.
CiCi was adopted in 2009. She's been with me for a long time. When I got her, it was shortly after the passing of another cat -- my buddy, Oliver. He'd been with me for close to 14 years before passing to cancer and my other cat, Isabel, was grieving bad. We thought getting her another friend might help and... so we brought CiCi hope. Isabel loved her. My mother had to reach into the back of the cage to get her though, Cici was such a scared and nervous kitten. She had been heavily abused before we adopted her and never really grew out of it. She didn't like to roam the house and preferred to stay in one room, where she felt safe. She was a GOOD cat though, very loving. She might have been 'damaged' but she was still perfect to us.
On Friday, we noticed the vent pulled up in our bathroom. We are still not sure how she pried it open, but she went in. We called everyone, the fire department, police, wildlife, animal control, no one would help us. Even our HVAC guy didn't want to get under the house to check for her. I begged him to on Saturday when I heard her. Like i begged so hard for them to listen to me and not wait, but the HVAC guy seemed adamant that she would come out on her own. So we tried everything else, catnip to lure her out, tuna by the vent opening, cans of cat food out. Finally Monday rolled around and we got them out first thing in the morning and they went under the house. They found her body, she had already died. She was stuck in the vent.
If they had just gone under when I begged them to, she'd STILL be here. If someone had helped when I asked, she'd be alive and I just am having such a hard time processing this because this just didn't need to end this way. I'm not casting blame, or i'm trying not to anyone, but I feel so angry and I get so overwhelmed thinking about how afraid she probably was and I just keep praying that she had a heart attack or something that took her quick so that she wasn't in pain, but I don't know. All I know is my baby died without me, and every time I think about it I just feel sicker and sicker.