We should have been celebrating her 5th birthday on Friday but instead I am left grieving. I tried to reassure myself that I could make it through this post without crying but then why shouldn't I cry? A member of my family has been taken away from me. For 5 years it has been Pumpkin, Leigh and Me and now I never get to hug her again or ask her how her day has been. She won't be jumping on me in the morning to wake me up for breakfast or patiently waiting whilst I do my hair. I wont find her in the windowsill chatting at the birds or waiting by the door when I get home from work. She is going to leave such a gaping hole in our lives because she was just everything to us.
We loved how brave she was at chasing off other cats but only when we were behind her working as a pack. We loved how she blinked at us to show affection and how sometimes she'd meow just to find where we were in the house and then come running. I have been trying to squash these memories down because I wouldn't be able to stop crying if I let them all bubble up. Everything reminds me of her, if I see any movement in the corner of my eye I think it's her for a moment and then I remember that she is gone.
To lose a pet is one of the most devastating things that can happen. You pour every ounce of love into them, they are there when you've had a bad day and need a cuddle, or make you laugh if they are being stupid. It's always been upsetting to go through, I've always had pets growing up but she was the first pet that was truly ours and the first time I have ever been present at the time of passing.
Pumpkin's death was so sudden, she was fine on Friday and by Monday we had to make the decision to put her to sleep. She had been breathing incredibly heavily but I assumed she had just eaten something funny, or something was a bit stuck. It became very clear on Sunday morning that she was not very well and needed to be taken to the emergency clinic. Once there she was rushed off and placed in an oxygen chamber to help her breathe. After doing x-rays and tests on her chest the vets discovered that she had a large quantity of fluid on her lungs and around her heart. They also discovered that her heart was incredibly abnormal and so had to tell us that there wasn't much chance of her surviving another 3 months now this had happened once. There was also a high risk of sudden death, I suppose a bit like a heart attack.
We discussed seeing how things went but with our hearts breaking we decided it wasn't fair to drag her in and out of vet appointments and put her through sedations for the rest of, what would be, a short life. Making the decision was the hardest thing I've had to do and I felt like, and still do a bit, I was murdering her. Who were we to judge whether she should live or die? As the needle pumped the drug into her all I could do was sob 'sorry' because I was so sorry to do that to her. I know we did the right thing because she won't feel any pain now and she died after lots of love, cuddles, kisses and strokes rather than potentially scared and alone one day whilst we were at work.
She bought such light into our lives, making us laugh and smile with her quirks. I was going to wait for a couple of days to write this post, rather than 12 hours after it's happened but I wanted to get it all down. We have so many wonderful memories of our time with her that nothing can take away, although I am trying to think of them only fleetingly and not dwell right now as the thought of not making more hurts so much.
It is going to take us a really long time to get over what has happened today. I still can't quite comprehend that when we took her to the vets on Sunday she would never come home again. I don't even know when to start with the grieving process and I don't want to think about life without her because she was just so precious to us. When everything else is said and done you have the memories of your time together and those are what you can cling to.
We loved you so much our darling girl.