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Janine I

pet grief & mortality

I am not okay. I am grieving, physically sick (I got a perfectly timed cold), and I am at a very low point in my life. On February 21st, 2023, we had to put our beloved cat Missy to sleep.

She was only 2 years old…my heart hurts deeply. Missy was a feral kitten, and we fostered / adopted her in our family since she was just 8 weeks old. She is very sweet, curious, and loves keeping good hygiene. We noticed she was breathing very quickly and occasionally peed in various places, but after a few vet visits we wondered if that’s how she is or if she just got nervous. Fast forward to early February, we brought her in again and got her lab results. The vet told us to take her to the emergency as her kidney levels were elevated and it can be fatal. What comes to follow is an intense roller coaster of a lot of tears, hope, and love.


She was hospitalized for several nights to help her levels be normal. We found out she had a UTI, bacterial infection, and 1 failed enlarged kidney and another smaller one. We wanted to give her our best chances, and gave her a nephrectomy. After days of more hospitalization, we brought her home. We were luckily able to spend some precious time with her. Sometimes she was alert, lively, and had positive signs of health. Other times she seemed lethargic and we were very concerned. After finding a dark stool, we sought pet advice and brought her in again. Despite her fluids and all she’s gone through, her kidney levels were higher…I felt such a heaviness on my chest as the worst possible outcome started seeming more likely. The vets wanted to give her 1 more night of hospitalization to see if IV fluids would help. While she seemed better, her levels did not change and continued to get worse. She could not live a normal, healthy, happy life any more. We got the dreaded phone call saying there was nothing more we can do. They suggested humane euthanasia, and we agreed to end her suffering. I cannot tell you how painful that day was. We. tried. so. hard. We were able to spend her last moments on this physical plane together. I expressed all my love for her and apologized for my shortcomings. I kept thinking if we got her blood levels checked sooner maybe we could have prevented this, but to my vet and spiritual counselor’s knowledge, there was nothing else we could do. Reliving this moment and writing this makes me teary-eyed as finding the words to express how heartbroken I’ve been is difficult. In almost an instant after the shot was administered, she passed peacefully in my arms.

Saying goodbye wasn’t easy, much less is adjusting to life without her. When she passed, the concept that our body is just a vessel was emphasized greatly in my head. One second I was holding our Missy, the next I had a corpse on my lap. It reminded me of mortality and how we are all souls with bodies. I believe the soul doesn’t die, and while I mourn our new lives without her physical presence, I am comforted she is no longer in pain and that she is still here in some way. I hope I am able to sense her when she is around.


Our other cats seem fine for some reason. Perhaps because they know she’s not really gone. They’ve also brought me comfort and love. I won’t lie, whenever I feed our babies, I feel the void that Missy has left as I no longer need to fill her bowl or guard her from the other cats. I look around to see where she might be sleeping this time, since she always decides to nap in different spots. When I don’t find her, I am reminded of the bitter reality that she isn’t here any more. I truly wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish she didn’t have to be in pain and I wish she could have stayed here longer. I wish I could have done more, and have been more patient, more diligent, more everything. One of the vet techs told us she was proud of us, and that we’re good pet parents. I know we tried, but I feel like we failed.

Ultimately, I know there is only so much we can do, and unfortunately grief is huge part life and there is no way around it. I believe death isn’t the end though.

My counselor explained how grief is love that is lost that we don’t know how or where to express it now that someone’s physical-being is gone. Besides my inevitable dark moments of sadness, I’ve decided to use this energy to express myself here and share the joys of fostering and adopting. I am slowly picking myself up and trying to heal my body and soul. While I am in pain, I do not regret bringing her into our lives, loving her, and doing our best to help her be happy and safe. I am forever touched, and I hope one day later we can reunite.

I’ve compiled a gallery of her best photos from the beginning and end of her life below. I love you Missy. To anyone else who is grieving as well, I offer my condolences and sincerely wish you the best in life and your healing journey too.


with eternal love and deep sadness, janine




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