Wednesday, July 14, 2010


(Latte in 2005- LCS)
I lost my fur child today. I did not have to teach today. Steve called off because he was not feeling well. I woke up and met Latte at the end of the hall. She was lying on her stomach at the top of the stairs; her paws outstretched. I sat down next to her. Latte had not been affectionate recently because she was not feeling well. However, she placed both of her paws on my arm. Latte gazed up at me with her adoring green eyes and started purring. The tips of her fur glistened like crystals in the sunlight. She also chased a few shadows on the wall like she always does.
After Steve and I took Latte to the vet last week, I asked Latte to please let me know when it was time to let go. I am now certain she was telling me this morning. Today while Steve was home resting, I lunched with a friend and then visited other friends at the library. When I returned home, Latte continued to sleep on the couch on the porch. Her breathing hastened and her energy level declined significantly throughout the day. Steve and I spoke and decided to take her to the vet. When we arrived at the vet, Latte seemed to perk up. She was hopping and giving Steve and me "goat." (Goat is when she gives us head butts and walks on two feet. It's adorable.) She also purred. We conferred with the vet and due to her diagnosis (late-stage cancer), it was the kindest thing to euthanize. Although she appeared happy and hopping around, our vet noticed that she lost weight since last week. We were afraid that Latte's health would continue to decline rapidly and that she would suffer.
The technician gave her a shot that would relax her. We were fortunate, unlike with Jack, to spend quality time with her at the end of her life. The vet had a comfortable blanket draped on the table. (A kind touch.) The vet gave her another shot to relax her, since Latte has a lot of energy. After Latte was completely relaxed, the vet gave her the IV. Latte passed over in our arms, painlessly and peacefully. That's how she deserved to die, in peace and surrounded with love.

1 comment:

Marci said...

Oh my sweet girl... Yes, I concur...she was telling you -- it's time for me to go, mommy, I love you... my sweet female Siamese Cat, Mischa, developed bone cancer when she was 6 years old. She had always had difficulty getting up into our water bed as it was high...but with the rapid growth bone cancer (2 weeks from dx she couldn't get around easily at all) I woke up in the middle of the night with her on my chest, licking my nose and purring. I KNEW that was her goodbye song to me and I honored her request by letting the vet euthanize her that I held her in my arms, and with the vet whispering in her ear that she was beautiful and loved, she went off to sleep. I brought her home and buried her in the olive groves behind my home in Santa Barbara. I know that she is running free and healthy in heaven, and was there to greet her brother when he passed several years later. I grieved harder for Mischa than I thought was possible.

You did exactly the right thing...which does NOT heal the pain...

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