Hope was born to a feral mother under the old doublewide on the same site as the new house. She and her brother Marcus were absorbed into our family, where they have been loved and cherished.
Hope had been having some intermittent problems with stool, which turned bloody and resulted in a trip to the ER in late January. The usual interventions were tried first, with no success. A mass at the ileocecal junction was eventually found on ultrasound, as well as several enlarged lymph nodes. Given all the data, including muscle wasting, this was deemed most likely to be cancer, and a palliative course of treatment was agreed upon, with the intention of buying her as much quality time as we could. Hope made some progress, and held her own for a while. She seemed happy to be here, and I was pleased to be able to give her time, and Rick and me additional time with her.
Hope eventually developed ascites, a build up of fluids secreted into the abdominal space, in the last couple of weeks. Although she seemed hungry and thirsty, she became unable eat and drink in the last two days. Fluid was accumulating at a high rate as the cancer was progressing. Hope’s time had come, and her vet made room in a very busy schedule to help her cross the Great Divide in peace and safety. We had a good morning together that day. I gave her the usual morning meds and kept to routine, folded laundry with her, read for a bit and took a short nap. I spent a while talking to her before I put her in the carrier for the last ride. She meowed quite a bit on the way over, and it was an hour drive, but once we got to the parking lot, called the office with the space number we were in, I got into the back seat with her and talked some more until the tech came to get us. She was calm by then, looked me in the eye, and I had the feeling she understood this was a transition, I was there and all was well. The vet tech took her into the clinic to put in the catheter, and then they brought me in to have some time alone with her before the vet came in to give Hope her release. It was a state of the art room (new facilities) with subdued lighting and soft towel ready to receive her. I had brought Hope’s brush along, and brushed her for a while. She loved that soft brush. The vet knocked on the door softly, and we discussed things one last time. We agreed this was the day, Hope’s quality of life was slipping, and there was nothing more to do. Hope was calm, quiet and clear-eyed, and gently sank down into the blanket as the injections kicked in. It was almost Zen-like. The vet was very respectful and gentle, almost reverent in how the process was handled.
Rest in Love, dear little Hope.
It is always sad when a fur baby crosses over the rainbow bridge, but good to know they had a happy loved life.
Thanks for liking my blog.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, Time Traveler of Life. I will also stop by and have a look at your blog.
I am so sad too dear Lavinia, so sad. rest in Peace Little Hope, Hugs and Love to you dear Lavinia, nia
Thank you so much for your kind words, and honoring Hope’s life, dear Nia! You would have loved her, she was very sweet. Hugs back to you, dear friend.
So sorry.. just went through that recently, myself. Prayers for the family.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, Catsandcoffee. I send my heartfelt sympathy for your own recent loss, and will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.
It is always sad when a beloved friend is lost; Purrs to all who love Hope and to Hope as she starts on her next adventure.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, Catladymac. I talked to Hope about her next adventure, whenever and wherever that may be, on her last day. She understood. 🌈🐾 ❤️
She was loved and cherished…..could any of us ask for more. Hope was a joy to you for a long time. May you fondly remember her silly ways when the hurting ends.
My heart is with you Lavinia.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, Jean. We miss her. 🌈🐾 ❤️
I’m sure there is a hole in your heart. This is a horrible experience.
Every one of them leaves a hole behind when they die, and it is always hard to lose one. The loss is keenly felt for a long time. When one has a lot of cats, and the majority of them are in their senior years, the odds increase. It is my understanding this type of cancer in cats tends to crop up somewhere between 9 and 13 years of age. Hope would have been 14 in August. She was robust until the problems started, and I had fully expected her to live on into her 20s. I am a cancer survivor myself, and I am still here, almost 11 years later, I don’t know why. We worked hard, gave Hope as many good days as we could, and we cherished each and every one. Our rule was no needless suffering. Hope’s ending was peaceful and merciful. Doug and I hope her story is helpful and comforting to others who find themselves needing to make a similar decision. We thank you for honoring Hope’s life. 🌈🐾 ❤️
That is such sad news.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, Ellen. 🌈🐾 ❤️
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life Valentine. 🌈🐾 ❤️
So sorry to hear Hope’s family had to say goodbye to your furiend. Hugs.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, Valentine. 🌈🐾 ❤️ Sorry I did not get this in as a proper “reply”.
Always sorry to hear such news, but am glad you let us know.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life Jeanne. 🌈🐾 ❤️
Very sad news.
Thank you for stopping by and honoring Hope’s life, LeggyPeggy.
A tender post, Doug
Mostly Lavinia’s work…but thank you, Derrick.
Thank you, Derrick. Doug knows I only post 4 times a year now, and graciously offered to put up Hope’s memorial.
Thinking of you both XX
Very moving. Well done, sensitive Vet.
Thank you, John. She is indeed a wonderful vet.
So sorry to read this sad and painful news. My thoughts are with Lavinia and Rick.
It’s been a sad year there for kitties, with the Rosses joining you and me among others losing kitties.
Thank you for stopping by an honoring Hope’s life, dear Herman. I remember your beloved Mr. Bowie fondly. 🌈🐾 ❤️
Thank you for posting her memorial, Doug. You have been a good friend to us all at Salmon Brook Farms. It has been a difficult year for us.
It’s a small way can tell you I care. Your memorial garden must be huge by now.
There are plantings and flowers shoehorned in everywhere.
I believe it. Just ones you’ve planted for my friends and me would fill a bed.
I’ve been inspired by what you and Rick do, and I know the kitties are all part of what is good about Salmon Brook Farms. They aren’t just farm cats, left to do on their own. Posting this was just one small way I can repay you for your thoughtfulness when I dealt with Dougy’s passing last July.
Our WordPress community is a good one. We all look after each other. Each crossing over the Rainbow Bridge takes a piece of us with them, and it helps to have a caring community to help see us through the changes.
Oh that is so sad although it sounds like a peaceful transition. My heart goes out to Lavinia and Rick. Sending them hugs and purrs.
I am impressed with their veterinarian’s compassionate handling of a difficult moment.
Our vet is a wonderful person.
Thank you, Leah. I had hoped for a miracle, but it was not unexpected. Every day with her was a gift, and we treasured the time with Hope. 🌈🐾 ❤️
Very sad. 😢
Yes, RIP Hope.
Thank you, Doug. I know you still miss Freckles, Louie and Dougie cats, too. May they all rest in love.
It’s been a rough year. You’re welcome.
Thank you, John. We miss Hope very much.
It’s so hard to lose a pet, hugs for you. ❤️
Thank you, John. ❤️