- Joined
- May 11, 2018
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I made a post looking for help in identifying Mollie’s breed and it was suggested I also come here and write about her. This is going to very long and I apologize, I just think these details are important. She only passed on Tuesday and I’m still hurting so much from it.
Mollie was such a special cat. I was 14 years old and was going through some very difficult times. My boyfriend at the time thought getting me a cat would be a good idea. We searched Kijiji and found a lady advertising “Siamese” kittens for $100 each so we went to her house. There were four babies, all female; three short-haired and one long. I sat down on the lady’s couch and up hopped the long-haired one, right onto my lap. She showed me her belly and began purring, then happily accepted belly rubs. I had to take her home, since she had chosen me.
She was very cuddly and vocal. She loved to announce her presence and narrate what she was doing when she was playing. She was skittish with some people but loved attention for the most part. She loved to be picked up and to sit on my lap or chest.
I’m not sure if she had fleas when I got her or acquired them somehow. She ended up with a terrible case of them that we just couldn’t get rid of. We did medications, baths, we vacuumed and sprayed IGR, bombed the house, everything. It took a few months and a costly vet visit but we finally got them under control. I believe this stunted her growth a bit and contributed to her anxiety later in life. I feel terrible when I look back on it.
Just before she was due to go in for her spay, she developed pyometra. She’d been hiding under my bed for most of two days which wasn’t like her, but my mom reassured me she probably just wanted space. My dad, however, knew it was serious. They rushed her to the vet while I was at school and if my dad had not insisted she go right then, she would not have made it. The vet gave them the option of euthanasia or an $800 surgery. There was no question. She recovered from the surgery very quickly and put on some weight after. You’d never know she’d been near death just a few days prior; she got better that fast.
Life went on. Mollie was my buddy, cuddling with me when I cried and comforting me when I struggled with suicidal thoughts. She was my only reason to continue living at times throughout my difficult teen years. I put all my heart into caring for her and we had a special bond.
When I was almost 17 and Mollie was almost 3, I had to make a very difficult decision. My parents were moving 8 hours away and this was my chance to get myself out of my living situation. I loved Mollie but knew I couldn’t take her, and hated to leave her with my parents but they were much better with cats than they were with human children. My little sister promised to give her lots of love and attention and ensure she had all she needed. I didn’t see my parents much for a few months, but every time I visited, Mollie greeted me happily. I know me leaving probably contributed to her stress. She had to move 8 hours away and actually missed the first trip because she hid in the house. My parents came back up just to get her. They moved to a tiny apartment where all she did was hide. Then they moved to a house a few months later. She seemed okay.
But then they decided to get another cat. This didn’t go well with Mollie and I longed to take her home with me where she could be the only cat. A few months after they moved to the house, I got messages saying Mollie was peeing on plastic bags, my dad’s side of the bed, anywhere she could find. I didn’t realize now this could’ve been the beginning of what took her from me later on. My parents then got another cat which made the problem worse.
I feel terrible knowing I left her for over a year living with my parents. She had to be around other cats that tormented her, she didn’t get the affection she once got and needed, and I was away from her. I didn’t know her life would be so short and I missed a quarter of it. The guilt is terrible.
By this point in the story I’m 18 and Mollie is 4. Eventually I moved to where my parents lived and planned my wedding. I got married in June and moved into a place in July and got my beauty right away. She adjusted quickly and bonded to my husband. At this point, she loved affection and cuddling but didn’t love being held so much after living with my parents. But she demanded her daddy pick her up and carry her around like a football. She loved the way he brushed her and rubbed her belly. They were best buddies.
At the end of October, Mollie started following me around to every room I went to, as if she couldn’t leave me alone. She started laying on my lower belly instead of my chest or legs and was just way more obsessed with me than before. So I took a pregnancy test and found out I was pregnant. Just a couple days after that, I noticed Mollie’s litter clumps were smaller and lesser but she didn’t really seem sick. I took her to the vet, her bloodwork and x-ray were clear but her urine tested positive for two bacteria so we gave her liquid Amoxi twice a day to clear it up. She ended up throwing up violently. The vet said it’s rare to react like that but that she was likely allergic. We switched to orbifloxacin pills for 14 days and she tolerated those better. She hated taking pills which caused her to not want to be picked up much. She recovered by about day 5 of treatment and we finished her course. Life continued pretty much as normal.
One thing I did notice after this, was Mollie’s bum was always wet and very stinky. I figured with the long hair, she probably was getting just feces in it. We trimmed the hair around the area gave her a bum bath here and there, but for the most part, just did a quick wipe with a wet cloth so as not to overhandle and stress her. Now I wonder if she was expressing her glands from stress.
Mollie seemed to be doing great other than the dirty bum issue. She loved to lay on my belly and feel the baby kick her. She spent lots of time near me when I was sick on the couch or in bed for the first half of my pregnancy. I decided since she had a UTI before to try and get her eating a wet food to get more moisture in her diet. She hated wet food, but I persisted and finally got her to try one kind that she seemed to love. She started to meow for it in the mornings.
In February, I noticed her scratching and found a flea. I immediately went and got her flea medicine, began vacuuming and spraying IGR in the corners. The vet gave me a new medicine that’s supposed to last three months, so I gave it a go. I washed everything and vacuumed as much as I could with mine and my husband’s crazy work schedules and my severe morning sickness. The scratching continued. She started getting patchy hair on her sides and legs. I went back to the vet, and she said it can take three months to break a flea cycle. I didn’t want her dealing with fleas that long! I got a dose of her old flea medicine that I planned to give her that day, but decided since it was only 8 weeks since the last medicine, it was better not to overload her system. I continued everything I could to get rid of them and they seemed to be gone. She stopped scratching so much but was still grooming her sides and belly a lot. I figured the hair needed time to grow back and kept my eye out for fleas. I put the date in my phone to give her a flea treatment and continued maintaining a clean apartment.
At the beginning of April, I was having a difficult time getting much sleep. Mollie would meow for her breakfast around 5 am, and would be content for a while but then would meow at me to get up and open the curtains for her to look out the window. Then she would meow for me to come to the living room and play or cuddle with her. I told my husband that morning to shut the bedroom door tight so I could ignore her. That morning, she meowed way more than usual. She tried to push the door open and was shoving her paws underneath. She was frantic to get in. I finally decided to get up and noticed her bum was oddly wet as if she’d gotten a bum bath. I knew she hadn’t; my husband leaves for work at 6 am. That concerned me, so I watched her in her litter box. Straining with very little urine. I called my mom to come help me take her to the vet and right before we put her in her carrier, she peed on my floor mat and cried. She had never peed outside her box with me, even with her UTI. As I was putting her in her carrier, she peed a little dribble on me and I noticed a blood clot.
The vet got a sample from her and wanted to do an x-ray, then called me in to talk. She said it was definitely cystitis; but there was so much blood in her urine that she couldn’t tell if she had an infection or not. I assumed she did, since she tested positive for bacteria the first time. We decided to do a round of orbifloxacin just in case, but the vet also suggested it could be stress and to try modifying the environment to be more calming and spraying Feliway.
We gave her the medicine and tried spraying Feliway. She avoided any area sprayed with it, but I figured I could try other things. She recovered by day 5 or 6 of treatment and we figured we were in the clear at least for a while. We upped her wet food intake, provided more water bowls, and planned to get her a fountain and cat tree once we had a bit of extra money. I made sure to play with her and brush her more, kept my bedroom door open and invited her onto my bed when she cried for attention. We pushed some furniture by the window so she could sit and watch the birds and always had that curtain open for her. I had quit my job at this point so I talked to her as I went about my day at home. I was with her constantly.
We had 9 wonderful days of her healthy. Her bum wasn’t even dirty or stinky like usual; it was fluffy like it used to be and I had mentioned to my husband how I missed her fluffy tushy. In those days, she began sleeping at the foot of our bed with us, sometimes for almost the whole night. I couldn’t sit down on my couch without her sitting on me and trapping me. She ate well, drank well, went to her litter box well, and seemed much happier and healthier with the environment changes. I figured we got this FIC under control.
Then on a Sunday when the vet was closed, I was in bed with my husband when I heard her cry. I knew what that cry was. During her last flare, she would go pee and it would hurt, and she would come to my room and cry to me, then lead me to the living room. I would brush her to help distract her from the pain and then she would feel better until her next pee. I knew that cry. There was one instance in her last flare where her pain seemed so severe that she lied down on the floor and kept tensing/shaking her limbs and letting out soft little cries. It freaked me out but she quickly got up and sat on my lap and slept there for two hours so I figured she was fine.
The vet was closed on Sunday so I worked on getting a sample from her and put it in my fridge. I wasn’t going to stress her out and take her in when I knew it likely wasn’t bacteria and just wanted painkillers for her. Her urine tested negative but had blood in it and I was given buprenorphine for her, twice a day. It didn’t seem to help her and by day 6 she was usually better. Her urine wasn’t bloody, but she was going EVERYWHERE outside her box, crying throughout the night wanting me to brush her to distract her. She didn’t eat much until day 9, when suddenly, all she wanted all day long was her wet food. I obliged, since it would help produce more urine. Day 10, she started hiding sometimes. She stopped purring when pet or brushed. She stopped playing with her strings. She didn’t come sit on me when I was on the couch, or join me in bed unless I picked her up and put her there. Her bum was constantly soaked in urine from her squatting everywhere and also what seemed like gland expressions so I tried to periodically wipe her with a cloth to keep her as clean as I could. She purred and would lay on her belly and let me do it, she seemed to love it until one time I did it and she screeched in pain. She had groomed herself raw down there and it stung when I wiped her. Her fur started to look dull and all she did was groom constantly, I guess as a comfort. I noticed she was constantly laying down and doing the tensing and shaking thing too. When she was in her spot by the window, she seemed to be trying to sleep but would have waves of pain that caused her to tense up. She screeched if I tried to rub her belly or even if I pet her back unless incredibly softly. I was terrified. went to see the vet again and told them the bup wasn’t helping her at all and they suggested Metacam. As a former pharmacy tech, I was terrified to give it to her. They said maybe collect another sample from her, but they agreed that she had been given so much medicine and handled by vets and by myself and my husband (medicines and him wiping) so much that bringing her into the vet in her condition would stress her out severely so they wanted to avoid it. I was also running out of money. They had just done an x-ray a few weeks prior and figured this was just painful cystitis and to try other things. This is when I very sadly told them about how she was starting to lose interest in all the things she loved and just looked terribly ill. I said she was suffering terribly and was afraid to force her through more treatments and tests when there wasn’t a guarantee it would even help. They said I was a good owner for thinking of her feelings and not just trying to keep her alive selfishly. They asked if I would like an appointment for two days from then to see her regular vet and discuss if euthanasia might be her best option. I went home to her and cried. She looked absolutely terrible.
I woke up Tuesday morning, figuring it was likely my last full day with her as Wednesday at noon I would discuss euthanasia and likely book it for that night. At this point I knew that this was what was best for her, no matter how incredibly painful this all was. I took one look at her and how terribly ill she was and moved the appointment to 10:45 that morning because she looked as though she would pass on her own, in pain and afraid. It was then I realized there likely was something else going on but I knew that the point she was at, it wasn’t fair to do more tests, more medicines and more stress. She needed to rest. I saw the vet and she agreed with me. She even tested up. Mollie was so loved there. She never hissed, scratched or bit any time she stayed there. She was compliant about examinations. The techs loved her.
I booked her euthanasia for 4:30 and got home to my baby about noon. She wasn’t wanting to cuddle anymore but sat beside me on the arm of the chair. I then asked her if she would give me just one last cuddle. I stretched out on my couch and waited. She didn’t have much strength to jump up to her spots anymore or even get in and out of her litter box, but she jumped up onto my lap and stayed there for two hours. She slept during those two hours, without any twitching or indication of pain at all. She was very relaxed and even purring. I think she knew. After two hours, she wanted some food so I gave her lots of it. Then I put her up on her perch by the window as the sun rays were coming in. She again seemed to be resting calmly. She still periodically seemed to be in pain, but she almost seemed relieved. I pet her and told her through my tears that soon she wouldn’t be in anymore pain and that I loved her. I told her I would miss her and would never forget her. I thanked her for helping me through so much and apologized that she had a rough life. She purred for me after days of not purring even for her brush.
We took her in and she passed peacefully, my head on hers. The vet said she hissed when getting her IV, which she’d never done. She said Mollie did look very unwell and was likely going to pass on her own, regardless of if we tried anything else. She agreed something else was going on along with cystitis but that it wasn’t fair to keep forcing her through treatments. I desperately wish I could’ve had more time with her but I couldn’t prolong her suffering. I feel terrible guilt over all the stressful situations she had been through and I wish I could’ve helped her more but I just could not force her to continue living with pain so terrible that even buprenorphine didn’t help. She is at rest now and I have a locket with her beautiful fur in it since I couldn’t afford to cremate her and keep her ashes. She was laid to rest in my sister’s backyard. I miss her terribly but I’m thankful for the time I had with my beautiful girl.
Mollie was such a special cat. I was 14 years old and was going through some very difficult times. My boyfriend at the time thought getting me a cat would be a good idea. We searched Kijiji and found a lady advertising “Siamese” kittens for $100 each so we went to her house. There were four babies, all female; three short-haired and one long. I sat down on the lady’s couch and up hopped the long-haired one, right onto my lap. She showed me her belly and began purring, then happily accepted belly rubs. I had to take her home, since she had chosen me.
She was very cuddly and vocal. She loved to announce her presence and narrate what she was doing when she was playing. She was skittish with some people but loved attention for the most part. She loved to be picked up and to sit on my lap or chest.
I’m not sure if she had fleas when I got her or acquired them somehow. She ended up with a terrible case of them that we just couldn’t get rid of. We did medications, baths, we vacuumed and sprayed IGR, bombed the house, everything. It took a few months and a costly vet visit but we finally got them under control. I believe this stunted her growth a bit and contributed to her anxiety later in life. I feel terrible when I look back on it.
Just before she was due to go in for her spay, she developed pyometra. She’d been hiding under my bed for most of two days which wasn’t like her, but my mom reassured me she probably just wanted space. My dad, however, knew it was serious. They rushed her to the vet while I was at school and if my dad had not insisted she go right then, she would not have made it. The vet gave them the option of euthanasia or an $800 surgery. There was no question. She recovered from the surgery very quickly and put on some weight after. You’d never know she’d been near death just a few days prior; she got better that fast.
Life went on. Mollie was my buddy, cuddling with me when I cried and comforting me when I struggled with suicidal thoughts. She was my only reason to continue living at times throughout my difficult teen years. I put all my heart into caring for her and we had a special bond.
When I was almost 17 and Mollie was almost 3, I had to make a very difficult decision. My parents were moving 8 hours away and this was my chance to get myself out of my living situation. I loved Mollie but knew I couldn’t take her, and hated to leave her with my parents but they were much better with cats than they were with human children. My little sister promised to give her lots of love and attention and ensure she had all she needed. I didn’t see my parents much for a few months, but every time I visited, Mollie greeted me happily. I know me leaving probably contributed to her stress. She had to move 8 hours away and actually missed the first trip because she hid in the house. My parents came back up just to get her. They moved to a tiny apartment where all she did was hide. Then they moved to a house a few months later. She seemed okay.
But then they decided to get another cat. This didn’t go well with Mollie and I longed to take her home with me where she could be the only cat. A few months after they moved to the house, I got messages saying Mollie was peeing on plastic bags, my dad’s side of the bed, anywhere she could find. I didn’t realize now this could’ve been the beginning of what took her from me later on. My parents then got another cat which made the problem worse.
I feel terrible knowing I left her for over a year living with my parents. She had to be around other cats that tormented her, she didn’t get the affection she once got and needed, and I was away from her. I didn’t know her life would be so short and I missed a quarter of it. The guilt is terrible.
By this point in the story I’m 18 and Mollie is 4. Eventually I moved to where my parents lived and planned my wedding. I got married in June and moved into a place in July and got my beauty right away. She adjusted quickly and bonded to my husband. At this point, she loved affection and cuddling but didn’t love being held so much after living with my parents. But she demanded her daddy pick her up and carry her around like a football. She loved the way he brushed her and rubbed her belly. They were best buddies.
At the end of October, Mollie started following me around to every room I went to, as if she couldn’t leave me alone. She started laying on my lower belly instead of my chest or legs and was just way more obsessed with me than before. So I took a pregnancy test and found out I was pregnant. Just a couple days after that, I noticed Mollie’s litter clumps were smaller and lesser but she didn’t really seem sick. I took her to the vet, her bloodwork and x-ray were clear but her urine tested positive for two bacteria so we gave her liquid Amoxi twice a day to clear it up. She ended up throwing up violently. The vet said it’s rare to react like that but that she was likely allergic. We switched to orbifloxacin pills for 14 days and she tolerated those better. She hated taking pills which caused her to not want to be picked up much. She recovered by about day 5 of treatment and we finished her course. Life continued pretty much as normal.
One thing I did notice after this, was Mollie’s bum was always wet and very stinky. I figured with the long hair, she probably was getting just feces in it. We trimmed the hair around the area gave her a bum bath here and there, but for the most part, just did a quick wipe with a wet cloth so as not to overhandle and stress her. Now I wonder if she was expressing her glands from stress.
Mollie seemed to be doing great other than the dirty bum issue. She loved to lay on my belly and feel the baby kick her. She spent lots of time near me when I was sick on the couch or in bed for the first half of my pregnancy. I decided since she had a UTI before to try and get her eating a wet food to get more moisture in her diet. She hated wet food, but I persisted and finally got her to try one kind that she seemed to love. She started to meow for it in the mornings.
In February, I noticed her scratching and found a flea. I immediately went and got her flea medicine, began vacuuming and spraying IGR in the corners. The vet gave me a new medicine that’s supposed to last three months, so I gave it a go. I washed everything and vacuumed as much as I could with mine and my husband’s crazy work schedules and my severe morning sickness. The scratching continued. She started getting patchy hair on her sides and legs. I went back to the vet, and she said it can take three months to break a flea cycle. I didn’t want her dealing with fleas that long! I got a dose of her old flea medicine that I planned to give her that day, but decided since it was only 8 weeks since the last medicine, it was better not to overload her system. I continued everything I could to get rid of them and they seemed to be gone. She stopped scratching so much but was still grooming her sides and belly a lot. I figured the hair needed time to grow back and kept my eye out for fleas. I put the date in my phone to give her a flea treatment and continued maintaining a clean apartment.
At the beginning of April, I was having a difficult time getting much sleep. Mollie would meow for her breakfast around 5 am, and would be content for a while but then would meow at me to get up and open the curtains for her to look out the window. Then she would meow for me to come to the living room and play or cuddle with her. I told my husband that morning to shut the bedroom door tight so I could ignore her. That morning, she meowed way more than usual. She tried to push the door open and was shoving her paws underneath. She was frantic to get in. I finally decided to get up and noticed her bum was oddly wet as if she’d gotten a bum bath. I knew she hadn’t; my husband leaves for work at 6 am. That concerned me, so I watched her in her litter box. Straining with very little urine. I called my mom to come help me take her to the vet and right before we put her in her carrier, she peed on my floor mat and cried. She had never peed outside her box with me, even with her UTI. As I was putting her in her carrier, she peed a little dribble on me and I noticed a blood clot.
The vet got a sample from her and wanted to do an x-ray, then called me in to talk. She said it was definitely cystitis; but there was so much blood in her urine that she couldn’t tell if she had an infection or not. I assumed she did, since she tested positive for bacteria the first time. We decided to do a round of orbifloxacin just in case, but the vet also suggested it could be stress and to try modifying the environment to be more calming and spraying Feliway.
We gave her the medicine and tried spraying Feliway. She avoided any area sprayed with it, but I figured I could try other things. She recovered by day 5 or 6 of treatment and we figured we were in the clear at least for a while. We upped her wet food intake, provided more water bowls, and planned to get her a fountain and cat tree once we had a bit of extra money. I made sure to play with her and brush her more, kept my bedroom door open and invited her onto my bed when she cried for attention. We pushed some furniture by the window so she could sit and watch the birds and always had that curtain open for her. I had quit my job at this point so I talked to her as I went about my day at home. I was with her constantly.
We had 9 wonderful days of her healthy. Her bum wasn’t even dirty or stinky like usual; it was fluffy like it used to be and I had mentioned to my husband how I missed her fluffy tushy. In those days, she began sleeping at the foot of our bed with us, sometimes for almost the whole night. I couldn’t sit down on my couch without her sitting on me and trapping me. She ate well, drank well, went to her litter box well, and seemed much happier and healthier with the environment changes. I figured we got this FIC under control.
Then on a Sunday when the vet was closed, I was in bed with my husband when I heard her cry. I knew what that cry was. During her last flare, she would go pee and it would hurt, and she would come to my room and cry to me, then lead me to the living room. I would brush her to help distract her from the pain and then she would feel better until her next pee. I knew that cry. There was one instance in her last flare where her pain seemed so severe that she lied down on the floor and kept tensing/shaking her limbs and letting out soft little cries. It freaked me out but she quickly got up and sat on my lap and slept there for two hours so I figured she was fine.
The vet was closed on Sunday so I worked on getting a sample from her and put it in my fridge. I wasn’t going to stress her out and take her in when I knew it likely wasn’t bacteria and just wanted painkillers for her. Her urine tested negative but had blood in it and I was given buprenorphine for her, twice a day. It didn’t seem to help her and by day 6 she was usually better. Her urine wasn’t bloody, but she was going EVERYWHERE outside her box, crying throughout the night wanting me to brush her to distract her. She didn’t eat much until day 9, when suddenly, all she wanted all day long was her wet food. I obliged, since it would help produce more urine. Day 10, she started hiding sometimes. She stopped purring when pet or brushed. She stopped playing with her strings. She didn’t come sit on me when I was on the couch, or join me in bed unless I picked her up and put her there. Her bum was constantly soaked in urine from her squatting everywhere and also what seemed like gland expressions so I tried to periodically wipe her with a cloth to keep her as clean as I could. She purred and would lay on her belly and let me do it, she seemed to love it until one time I did it and she screeched in pain. She had groomed herself raw down there and it stung when I wiped her. Her fur started to look dull and all she did was groom constantly, I guess as a comfort. I noticed she was constantly laying down and doing the tensing and shaking thing too. When she was in her spot by the window, she seemed to be trying to sleep but would have waves of pain that caused her to tense up. She screeched if I tried to rub her belly or even if I pet her back unless incredibly softly. I was terrified. went to see the vet again and told them the bup wasn’t helping her at all and they suggested Metacam. As a former pharmacy tech, I was terrified to give it to her. They said maybe collect another sample from her, but they agreed that she had been given so much medicine and handled by vets and by myself and my husband (medicines and him wiping) so much that bringing her into the vet in her condition would stress her out severely so they wanted to avoid it. I was also running out of money. They had just done an x-ray a few weeks prior and figured this was just painful cystitis and to try other things. This is when I very sadly told them about how she was starting to lose interest in all the things she loved and just looked terribly ill. I said she was suffering terribly and was afraid to force her through more treatments and tests when there wasn’t a guarantee it would even help. They said I was a good owner for thinking of her feelings and not just trying to keep her alive selfishly. They asked if I would like an appointment for two days from then to see her regular vet and discuss if euthanasia might be her best option. I went home to her and cried. She looked absolutely terrible.
I woke up Tuesday morning, figuring it was likely my last full day with her as Wednesday at noon I would discuss euthanasia and likely book it for that night. At this point I knew that this was what was best for her, no matter how incredibly painful this all was. I took one look at her and how terribly ill she was and moved the appointment to 10:45 that morning because she looked as though she would pass on her own, in pain and afraid. It was then I realized there likely was something else going on but I knew that the point she was at, it wasn’t fair to do more tests, more medicines and more stress. She needed to rest. I saw the vet and she agreed with me. She even tested up. Mollie was so loved there. She never hissed, scratched or bit any time she stayed there. She was compliant about examinations. The techs loved her.
I booked her euthanasia for 4:30 and got home to my baby about noon. She wasn’t wanting to cuddle anymore but sat beside me on the arm of the chair. I then asked her if she would give me just one last cuddle. I stretched out on my couch and waited. She didn’t have much strength to jump up to her spots anymore or even get in and out of her litter box, but she jumped up onto my lap and stayed there for two hours. She slept during those two hours, without any twitching or indication of pain at all. She was very relaxed and even purring. I think she knew. After two hours, she wanted some food so I gave her lots of it. Then I put her up on her perch by the window as the sun rays were coming in. She again seemed to be resting calmly. She still periodically seemed to be in pain, but she almost seemed relieved. I pet her and told her through my tears that soon she wouldn’t be in anymore pain and that I loved her. I told her I would miss her and would never forget her. I thanked her for helping me through so much and apologized that she had a rough life. She purred for me after days of not purring even for her brush.
We took her in and she passed peacefully, my head on hers. The vet said she hissed when getting her IV, which she’d never done. She said Mollie did look very unwell and was likely going to pass on her own, regardless of if we tried anything else. She agreed something else was going on along with cystitis but that it wasn’t fair to keep forcing her through treatments. I desperately wish I could’ve had more time with her but I couldn’t prolong her suffering. I feel terrible guilt over all the stressful situations she had been through and I wish I could’ve helped her more but I just could not force her to continue living with pain so terrible that even buprenorphine didn’t help. She is at rest now and I have a locket with her beautiful fur in it since I couldn’t afford to cremate her and keep her ashes. She was laid to rest in my sister’s backyard. I miss her terribly but I’m thankful for the time I had with my beautiful girl.
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