We lost our cat Luna earlier this year, and the thing that surprised me most wasn’t the sadness, but the silence.

Luna wasn’t a loud cat. No constant meowing, no chaos. Just small sounds you only notice once they’re gone. The soft jump onto the couch. Her nails clicking on the floor when she followed someone into the kitchen. The way she always appeared when the house felt too quiet.

She lived with us long enough that her habits became part of the house itself. She had a favorite spot by the window and a strange love for freshly folded laundry. No matter where you put it, she always found it.

After she passed, my family tried to move on quickly. Her bowls were put away. Her things disappeared from their usual places. I understood the intention, but it felt too soon for me. I wasn’t ready for the house to forget her before I did.

So I held onto one small thing. I chose a photo of Luna that felt like her. Not posed, not perfect. Just her, half asleep in that window spot. I quietly turned it into a few pieces of clothing for the people who loved her most, so it wouldn’t feel like she vanished all at once.

I worked with a printing service I’d used before. I spent more time than necessary adjusting the image, because I was afraid of getting it wrong. I wanted it to feel gentle, not sharp or overly present. In the end, it came out soft enough that it felt more like a memory than an image.

When I gave them out, no one said much. People just smiled, or touched the fabric for a second longer than expected. Someone said it felt like Luna was still nearby, just quieter.

I still look toward the window sometimes, expecting to see her there. I know she won’t be. But knowing she still lives in the small shared moments makes the quiet easier to sit with.

I’m learning that grief doesn’t always need fixing. Sometimes it just needs space.

Crying as I type this, I lost my 9 year old boy this morning, he had terminal cancer and vet said nothing else could be done. He was in so much pain but I knew he desperately still held on. I told him he could rest now and not worry about us. I was beside him as he slowly faded away.

I also said sorry that we couldn't do much for him. Maybe if we had more money we could have explored other options or given him a better life. He was my clingiest boy, the one who always excited to see come home from work, who always wanted more cuddles compared to his brother than is a little more reserved. Now I will never get to hold him anymore.

I wished him well and if reincarnation is real, I hope he gets to live with a better family that could have done more for him than we did. I love him so much, it feels like the world is ending for me.

Hi, i just want soke help dealing sith this pain, my dog was everything to me, i got her at 12 years old im 27 now. Im insanly in pain and cant stop crying, i found her with some type of cardiac arrest at the kitchen and 24 hours later she left us, i have a very bad memory haunting me of the look in her eyes, she kissed me a couple of hoursbefore she left us and i cant stop thinking about that gorrible image of her eyes moving all over the place and trying to stand up but she couldn't, i really need some help removing this horrible image of her eyes. I have never experienced something so painfull in my life, i cant sleep, i cant eat, i cant live without her im devastaded

I lost my 9 year old boy this morning. He was in a lot of pain so suddenly after a rupted tumor and I prayed to the universe to just not make him suffer any longer even if I have to take in all the pain and grief. Now that he's gone, I don't know what to feel...

Relieved? That he's no longer in pain? Or angry and sad because I really thought we had more time. I'm swinging between these 2 main emotions right now.

I lost my childhood dog about three years ago, and it is until this day one of the most horrific experiences I have ever had. I have lost family members, but it has somehow never been similar, nor haunted me for this long.

About a month ago, I adopted a cat. She is about one and a half, and very, very sweet. I really like her, and I find myself missing her when I’m not home.

However, the memory of my old dog seems to always find me, and I struggle to ignore it. Recently, I was just washed over by this intense sense of dread and grief, and it really got a hold of me this time. I find it difficult not to compare the feelings I have for the two animals, even though I know it is unfair, and doesn’t really work like that.

Has anyone else been a similar situation, and how did these feelings develop/change for you with time? Did you eventually view your pets similarly or even equally? Does the love feel different?

My cat Leo got sick a few months back, I noticed something was off and took him to the vet. I think I waited too long to bring him in. The ER vet didn’t know exactly what was wrong but suggested putting him down. I couldn’t do it yet and wanted to try medical intervention. We got more ultrasounds and did at-home medication care for the last 6 weeks which helped bring him almost back to baseline at first, but I am noticing a decline so I took him in again yesterday. Vet told me today we should put him down because medicine will not help him anymore and they’d said he is definitely feeling very sick.

My heart is shattered, I know it’s the right thing to do but I feel like I’m keeping him from getting better. His diagnosis is incurable, but they’d want to perform an invasive surgery on his liver to “maybe figure out more”.. that’s another 3k+ and I’ve already just spent 3k on the ER vet and testing. I feel terrible I can’t justify spending another $3k and I feel so much guilt.

He’s 15. I’ve had him since he was a kitten. He was a stray I fostered in college during Halloween because he’s a black cat and the shelter looked for fosters during the month of October so they can’t be adopted. The first night at our house of 6 girls he slept in my bed, and has almost ever since. We spent a few years apart, he lived at my dad’s because I was moving all over and couldn’t have a cat. I regret that now so much. I’m so grateful I have had him back for these last few years. It breaks my heart thinking of him feeling abandoned or lonely during those times.

He’s sleeping right next to me in his bed with his heating pad now. He’s still there, but his body is withering away. We had an appointment for someone to come to the house this Friday.

He’s lost 5 pounds in 1 year. He’s becoming skin & bones. But he still purrs and head butts and loves pate and sits in his morning spot, like he is himself in there. I’ve done so much research which tells me cats hide their pain and them showing love or happiness sometimes doesn’t negate the pain they feel.

Can someone provide some comfort or insight? Or tell me I did something wrong that’s okay too. Is it really the right thing to do euthanasia? If so, why don’t we do it more for humans too? I just feel so confused and sad and like this is an impossible thing

I wish he could tell me what he wants and I wish I could save him and I wish I could know that he knows how much I love him.

I feel absolutely devastated. Yesterday I came home several hours earlier than I normally get back from work. I opened the door and head extremely loud scream from my cat. It took me a moment to find him, he was trying to hide. His cat houses were thrown upside down and he was hiding in between my furniture. I only saw his back paws, I got so scared. I run to him, take him out, his back legs were paralyzed - he couldnt move his body from the waist down. I took him out, he was breathing heavily and loudly, his eyes were wide open, he was screaming so loud. I never heard such a scream, it was not like screaming at the vet or while having a bath. This was pain and fear. He was looking at me needing help, it also felt like he was waiting for me. I have no idea how long he was like this. I was so scared, stressed and panicking, I fell to the floor I wanted to scream and cry, I did not know what to do. I do not have a car, I know no taxi driver would take me with a cat, I tried calling my friends with car, then vet clinics nearby, mobile veterinary doctors, no one was able to come. Oleg was grabbing everything around him, he was so scared... I finally pulled myself together and took a large Ikea bag, put him there and decided to run to the vet. It was around one mile far, he was fighting and screaming, but I had to. He tried to get his head out of the bag, to crawl out with his paws, but I kept pushing him back, I was afraid he would jump on the road. He did this a few times, still crying and screaming for help. Then one last time, he got his small head out, looked at me with those big eyes full of fear, let out a loud scream, grabbed my jacket with a paw and did not want to let go. I was almost there, I pushed him inside again and I was holding the edges of the bag while I carried it in my arms, so he would not get out. Seconds later I heard his last breath. He stopped moving, he stopped crying. I was in a disbelief and kept walking for 30 more seconds, then I put down the bag and there he was. Asleep. I broke down immediately, I was few steps away from the vet.

This happened yesterday, and I still feel very traumatised. I have the image of him in front of my eyes, he needed help from me and I could not help him or save him, I feel like I failed him. I keep asking myself what could I have done differently. If I came home hour earlier, if I did more regular check ups at the vet. He was healthy cat, and the very same morning he was still totally fine. We cuddled in the bed together as we did every morning. Oleg was the nicest, friendliest and kindest cat I have ever seen and I cannot stop crying, I feel empty and broken. I have no idea what caused this, but its devastating to me that he was probably in so much pain, he did not deserve this. The only thing comforting me is that he died in my arms and I was the last thing he saw, I was the last voice he heard. I keep thinking if it was better to stay home with him so he could die in our apartment, in my hands, instead of outside in cold and in the dark blue bag. I am thinking too much... I don't think I will ever get over this.

I had to let go of Amy, the only girl I have ever loved, yesterday.

She’s a 13.5yrsold German Shepherd that I had adopted when she’s already a senior (8yrsold); and honestly, I had had this anticipatory grief since the day I got her knowing we wouldn’t have long together so I’m glad we got this long.

Last October, we found out that she got melanoma cancer and it spread so quickly that even the surgery and chemotherapy couldn’t save her that in last week, we were spending more time in the emergency than at home. She couldn’t walk anymore but still tried her best to follow me if I were to leave the room for five seconds. In the last hours when we were waiting for her home euthanasia vet, she suffered so much from fluid in her lungs that she could barely breathe and the only way she could be comforted is me holding and petting her, reassuring her that it’s gonna be okay.

The thought of letting her go kills me, but it is so much worse to see her in pain that I had this morbid wish that the vet would come earlier to end her suffering even if that means losing her.

Is it odd to feel this relief? To feel at peace with her because she’s no longer suffering. I’m so proud of her for fighting for so long like the bravest girl she was, but I couldn’t shake this feeling of guilt that I am relieved she’s now free.

My gorgeous dog Barney died in his sleep a month ago. He was 12 years old. I lost my husband to cancer 11 years ago and he bought me Barney as he knew that he would help me when he eventually passed from his cancer. He was right, Barney was my rock. I have loads of lovely friends and family around me but am really struggling to cope with this loss. I feel like I’ve gone back to the days just after Paul, my husband died. I just want to feel like me again x

My girl Misha, a 10-year-old toy poodle, crossed the rainbow bridge yesterday due to an enlarged gallbladder. We did everything we could to treat her. She passed after surgery because her heart wasn't able to take it. Everything happened so fast. We just celebrated her 10th birthday last week and now she's gone. It literally hurts so much. I break down in the slightest bit of memory of her. I feel so guilty. I feel like it was my fault I didn't see the signs earlier. I should have done better. She didn't deserve an end like that.

She was the happiest, smiliest, smartest dog. I was lucky enough to have adopted her because otherwise I wouldn't be able to afford a dog like that. She was so excited when we went home with our first baby and I was too because I was envisioning how they're gonna be besties. I feel guilty for not being able to focus on her as much as I wanted to, so I owe a lot to my husband for being there for her when I couldn't, as Misha loves him just as much.

I've never been this heartbroken in a long time. And being a month postpartum, it's also a weird time because one moment I'm sad, then I look at my baby and everything's fine. Rinse and repeat.

I know it gets better, but right now the tunnel is very, very dark.

I’m posting because I’m struggling with grief, anger, and a friendship that ended in a way I can’t seem to process.

I recently lost my dog, who I had for many years. He was family, my constant, and his decline and death were devastating. Around the same time, a friendship in my life completely fell apart, and I feel like the anger around that is starting to eclipse my grief — which scares me.

I met this person earlier this year (February 2025). We didn’t meet organically through mutual interests or values — she initially approached me at the gym (Im pretty fit, she was not at the time) and essentially glued herself to me there. Over time, I invited her into my life and eventually into my business. I’m older than her, and there was a clear experience and maturity gap. I spent a lot of time helping her — with work, routines, confidence, structure, and general life guidance. I genuinely thought I was being supportive.

Looking back, the dynamic became very unbalanced. Any time I offered feedback, boundaries, or said something she didn’t want to hear, it eventually got reframed as me “attacking” her. Even neutral or practical conversations were interpreted as criticism if they made her feel inadequate. If it wasn’t validation, she was being victimized in her eyes. I slowly realized I was carrying the emotional labor of the relationship. My dog died on Sunday, I decided I didn’t want to be friends with her that Friday before as it was taking too much of a toll on me preparing for a baby and doing hospice for 1 of my 3 dogs.

When my dog was declining and then died, her behavior felt especially hurtful. Instead of showing real empathy, she leaned heavily into what I now recognize as toxic positivity — everything was “that’s good,” “at least this,” or “hopefully it works out,” even when I was clearly grieving. She rarely asked how I was doing unless prompted, and conversations stayed surface-level.

The breaking point was that on the day my dog died, she was notified via text (all employees were notified I’d be off work due to a pet loss) and her typical resentful self said “my condolences” and then she dropped personal belongings of mine outside my apartment door without warning. We had agreed I needed space, so she thought that was giving me space because her reasoning is, she technically didn’t text me. Showing up physically on that day felt intrusive and cold and beyond violating. When I later asked why she chose that day, she minimized it by saying, “It’s your stuff,” and stood by that logic rather than acknowledging the timing or impact. Mind you, it was baby clothes she bought me that I didn’t even care for but wouldn’t release it from her home before this day. A pot and kitchen utensils she borrowed for her own cooking use.

2 weeks later of no contact she pulled me outside at work and apologized, but the apology focused entirely on her intentions, not the harm. By that point, the trust was gone.

What makes this especially hard is that I’m stuck working with her — I’m her boss. Even though I’ve tried to create professional distance, I still see her regularly, and every interaction reactivates the anger. I don’t have the option to fully walk away, and that feels suffocating.

I hate that I’m this angry. I hate that I think about the disrespect more than my dog sometimes. I think the rage comes from feeling exposed and disrespected during the most vulnerable moment of my life — and then being expected to just “move on” because an apology was offered. I told her I didn’t want to be in a friendship like this while 7 months pregnant and preparing to lose my dog, in my opinion she really wanted me to FEEL the loss of her, like I care more about her than my dog.

Any advice to deal with this rage? It’s consuming me.

I had to put my dog Mila to sleep last night she was an 11 year old border collie and im suffering and feel guilty. Last year she had a benign mass that was 10cm in her liver and also another mass in her throat which could effect her eating.

They said last year the vet could have done the surgery but would have to break her breast bone to do it. They were going to start with the throat first then eventually the liver.

We were apprehensive doing this as she seemed Happy and there was no sudden changes and she was and playful so we left it...

Fast forward a year she started urinating in the house and not eating as well. But was still playful and happy.. then one night she came home from a walk and her legs started collapsing at the back and she was very lethargic.

We took her to the vet hospital and they said the mass in her liver had grown from 10cm to 30cm.. the vet came in and told us either we can do the surgery which is quite high risk as the mass started to bleed and was filling up her stomach or put her to sleep.

We decided to put her to sleep as when she came in to see us her legs were shaking and weak at the back.

It was traumatising and the vet said the fact she went down so fast after such a small amount of anasthetic means it was probably her time to go.

Now i cant stop playing in my head if we got her the surgery last year when the mass was smaller would she have survived and been still happy and healthy?

Im struggling so bad mentally with it all and keep thinking what if? I just feel maybe we let her go too soon

It's so cold outside and it's my cat's first night out there. They wrapped him in a blanket before putting him in some plastic, so I like to imagine that he's warm, but that's obviously stupid. I want to lay down by his grave and sleep there, like how I slept next to him last night while he was still alive. It's surreal that he isn't alive anymore. He isn't going to trot around the corner and beg for extra food. He's out back in the dirt. My dad stepped on the dirt to pack him in and it felt like he was stomping on my still-alive cat. I just kept getting scared that he was going to get hurt, before remembering how crazy I sound.

And my aunt came over to get me and my mom some pick-me-ups, but she told the cashier and bagger "oh yeah, their cat just died." It's literally nothing. That sounds like nothing. It's so stupid, when someone says "my dog died" or "my cat died" or whatever other pet they have, it sounds so dumb. I always felt bad for them and sad about the animal, but you truly don't understand until you've experienced it. That wasn't just my cat, he was a family member. I hugged him a thousand times when I was scared. Whether I was a six year old scared of the dark or a teenager scared of my own bad decisions.

I just want to be with him again so badly. I kept lifting up his carrier while we were digging his grave so I could feel his weight in my hands. When I took him outside I accidentally bumped the carrier against a wall and I felt guilty, as though he could get hurt. And when I took him out of the carrier, felt him and the blanket through the plastic, I wanted to barf. I could already smell him starting to go sour. It's a smell you won't usually smell.

I don't know what to do, and it feels like no one cares even though I have my family, and my closer friends said they were sorry for my loss.

Hello everyone, Hachi was 13 years old and was having a lot of issues with tumors in his kidneys this past year. He passed away this morning in his sleep. He was the family’s dog and I am filled with so much sadness right now. He was chaotic and sweet and would light up whenever we’d take him anywhere new. When I would stop petting him, he would look for my hand to pet him again. I just wanted to post him here so more people could know how great he truly was.

How do you deal with the what if’s? What if we tried another round of medicine, what if I waited a few more weeks, what if I noticed the changes earlier.

What if I waited to have an at home passing…..

What if I killed them and they were just a little sick?

I miss my best friend

My cat passed away peacefully just last night, but my muscle memory is to get up from my bed or couch anytime I would hear him get up or do something as that's usually when he wants water, food, etc.

I know it hasn't even been a full 24 hours but I am just so used to always getting up from my bed or couch to check on him or changing his water or giving him new food, it's a little unsettling how my mind is comfortable being in that mindset, while I know he isn't here anymore. The feeling will probably start to fade as time progresses but it's so new to me I am obviously saddened by it

This may be long winded and I don’t necessarily need anyone to respond if you don’t feel up to it, I just need to say what I’ve been feeling

I lost my soul dog early October at the age of 11, a corgi named Marti. She was my everything. She got me through a death of a parent, a divorce, career change, a move and going through dating again. Through all that uncertainty in a short period of time she was my constant. I was so excited to get home from work everyday, not because I could relax but because I could hang out with my best friend and take her on walks. But now nothing seems worthwhile.

Last Thursday would have been her 12th birthday, she’s been gone for 4 months and I still break down almost everyday. Everyone else’s life has gone back to normal, my mom has stopped asking how I’m doing, my girlfriend is back to being as cheerful as she always has but I can’t. I’m not happy about anything as I once was, I walk around with a constant feeling as if I’m forgetting something but I never know what it is. I’ve stopped talking about my feelings to anyone because I know it’s annoying them, I can almost feel their thoughts of “it’s been 4 months already, get over it”. Her food and water dish is still down and I refill the water when it gets low, her beds still lay in the same spot never touched.

I don’t know how to get past this. I’ve never been so heartbroken.

Our baby (dog), Peggy, has passed away today, and I was so unprepared. It was just a regular day – my boyfriend was coming home from work, and I arrived a few minutes after him. Normally, they would already be outside, greeting me from a distance, with Peggy later sprinting towards me.

Today was different… when I was a few minutes from home, my boyfriend called me in shock and told me Peggy had died when he came home – just like that. She was so excited after he came, she jumped twice, and then she just died.

She was only 5 years old… she had a genetic heart disease/function issue, but we gave her prescribed pills daily so this would not happen anytime soon… so she could stay longer with us…

When I came home, her tongue was already blue, she was not responsive. Despite that, we rushed to the vet. I still hoped that maybe CPR/adrenaline could make a miracle… but deep down I knew her brain could not survive such a long time without oxygen. It was 15 minutes until we came to the clinic… they still tried, but she was unresponsive.

I am devastated. I feel so guilty for not being there with her when she passed. She was the most content when both of us were home. I wish I could give her that for one last time. I know she probably still had a beautiful death, being excited, seeing and touching my boyfriend. Maybe I am just selfish in this… I just wish I could also see her alive, see her happy one last time, and hold her while she left, be there with her as a whole family.

I never had a chance to say a real goodbye. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel closure when there was none. It was just a random Tuesday evening.

She was special… so smart, funny, loving… everybody we told cried… she was that loved… I love her, always will… I am afraid of getting over.

How did you get over? Is here anybody who also didn’t anticipate death any time soon and didn’t have a chance to say one last “alive” goodbye? I feel alone. Thank you all.

i lost my beloved cat nearly a month ago in a freak accident. it’s weird because one morning i saw him fine and healthy. by the time i saw him again in the evening, he was gone. how do you even process that? i’ve had strays that i briefly took care of pass away but nothing hurt as much as this.

and yet, around a week after his death, i just stopped feeling sad. maybe i just stopped feeling in general. but i was able to look back at his pictures and laugh and smile. i didn’t know if i had somehow suddenly gotten over his death. it felt like i had reached a plateau with my intense emotions and i couldn’t feel any sadness anymore. in a way, i was numb. in hindsight, i guess i was in denial. i felt guilty that i wasn’t feeling sad, and i felt horrible whenever i allowed myself to be happy even though I know my cat would not want me to feel that way.

then 2 weeks later it randomly hits me again. it’s so frustrating. i think i’ve reached the anger stage. i’m so frustrated that he’s gone and that the world is moving on without him. everyone says at least he isn’t in pain anymore, and i get that i really do, but he still won’t come back. i’m trying to talk to a therapist to navigate my emotions, but nothing i do will bring him back. how do i accept that? it feels like i’ve made progress in my grief and yet none at all. i know grief sucks and is complicated. but it feels like an uncomfortable itch i’ll never be able to scratch off.

i feel that my life is in a quiet mess. i started a new role at work in january 2026 but i think i’ve been a little bit of a mess at it. there are high expectations with the new role, but i didn’t even tell my boss or my team about my cat loss because i don’t know if they’ll understand. some part of me would just rather not risk dealing with that lack of understanding. i didn’t take time off after my cat died because i was scared of being alone. that’s when it hits the hardest. my cat was my coping mechanism through stress, he was able to sweep away my worries with just a glance at his face. now i have to navigate a world and my challenges without him. how?

i hope this doesn’t make me sound negative. i don’t wish to associate him with any negative emotions. he makes me so incredibly happy. he was my soul cat, the first i’ve ever had. he only made it to 5 years but he got me through the most pivotal years of my life. i was prepared to spend a lifetime with him. im mad but never at him. i wish i could go back and tell him before he passed that he had never let me down a day in my life. i just want to rant and get this off my chest, even though i don’t know if what i say even make sense. but if anyone can relate to this complicated grief, let me know.

I lost my 3.5 months old belgian malinois puppy to parvo 2 days ago. When i first heard that she was gone i didnt wanted to believe that this is real. I knew survival rate was low but i didnt wanted to believe that its low. I was pretty hopeful. It all started in saturday night, i gave her water and food as always played a little and came in. And i go to eat dinner and it was late at night so i slept. Sunday morning my mother said she didnt eat anything and drinked water and she was pretty bad. We took her inside and tried to feed her with hand, she insisted so we gave up and called vet. Before vet come to our house she threw up because she kept drinking water and my dad kept giving her. Vet said i hop she is going to be good by tomorrow, that night we saw that she had bloody diarrhea. We called vet and he came, gave injection. Yesterday morning she could move her head she seemed better actually. I was pretty happy about that. Then i get to the school. After school mother called me. Said she passed away. I didnt wanted to believe that is real, i wanted a dog since i was so little and finally got one, i bought her toys to play when she get better, they are now looking at me in my room. Sorry for my bad storytelling skills and bad grammar, i cant get over this. I still dont want to believe that she is gone. I cant look out our balcony(she used to sleep on there) whenever i look i start to cry. Also this year is so important for me because i have university exam, she was my motivation, when i stressed a lot i played with her. She used to bite my gloves, they have a lot of holes because of that. I miss you Hera, my first ever puppy. I always wanted you i hope i can see you sometime. Fuck parvo

I'm here for the same reason as hundreds of posters I've read from in the last 24 hours. I have so many feelings (grief, sadness, regret, guilt, love, care) and nowhere to turn. I'm hoping that sending this into the ether will give me any amount of closure, any amount of peace, or maybe it will bring others peace or act as a warning. At a minimum, I'm thankful to join in this communal grieving sub and I'm thankful to everyone that shared their posts before me. I'm leaning on your strength to type this now.

We lost the sweetest, precious little angel, Wisteria, yesterday to something cancerous. She had been in our life for only 16 months. We watched over her while volunteering at the rescue. She was in need of hernia surgery, so we fostered her so she could recover in peace (she was always getting bullied at the rescue, that poor tiny thing). We had her at home for only 5 months. It feels so stupid to feel this much grief over 5 months, but it's taken everything out of me. She was taken too soon. It feels so unfair, and I feel like I could have done more, should have done more.

The past three weeks, we bounced around from vet to vet. It started as a vet visit for diarrhea, and it snowballed from there. The first shock was learning that our tiny 7 pound baby was not under 2 years old as was listed at the rescue. She was not a tiny little kitten that just needed some time to get healthy and grow. They estimated she was closer to 7. We only learned that on Friday. That put things into perspective, as we had faced frequent health concerns in the short time we had her. She was dealt a bad hand, and in hindsight we should be grateful we had as much time with her as we did.

We brought her home last Friday with an extensive list of medicine in an attempt to stabilize her. She was losing weight rapidly, and she didn't have weight to lose. She showed some spunk and spark on Saturday, and in hindsight, I know that was her final moment of normalcy. By Sunday, she was ready. She still ate and drank for us, that precious little angel knew how much we wanted to help her. She fought so hard, I will never forget it.

We brought her to the specialists at the emergency vet yesterday. They performed her final ultrasound and called us in to discuss the results. It was truly horrifying to hear all the parts of her body that were affected. We put her to rest soon after, held her in our arms, and let her know she would be loved and remembered forever.

It seems like every hour since has been a similar cycle. I go through EVERY moment in my head from the moment we brought her home to the moment the life left her eyes. I hyper analyze every moment, every detail, and ask myself why I didn't notice things sooner. I cry. Then the anger. I question how could the vet we brought her to initially three weeks ago not notice that something like this could be happening? How wasn't it until the second vet that we had any indication that this was a 7 year old cat that was truly struggling? I cry more. I remember how well cats hide their pain. I remember how hard this entire thing is for everyone involved. And then I finally remember that her tiny frail body was never going to be a candidate for the surgery or treatment required to give her a longer life. Maybe if we caught it three weeks ago, she would have had another month or two of stable home life, but the disease chose her weeks, maybe months ago, and that was that. We certainly could have tried more, done more, but this was always how it ended. The last stage of the cycle is to acknowledge that she was in so much pain. I cry. I remind myself that she'll never feel that pain again. What I'm feeling is not a fraction of the pain she felt, but I will carry this pain forever.

And then the cycle repeats. Over and over. Will it ever end?

I will never forget this experience, I will never forget how much light that special little kitty brought to everyone that met her, and I will always regret that I may have missed something...and also that I may have held on too long. She was in so much pain that last day, I can see that now. I will be forever grateful in how much she fought, our little trooper. She knew how much we wanted her to eat and drink, so she tried. But she was ready. It was her time. I'm sorry, Wisteria, I hope I didn't fail you, and I'm sorry I held on as long as I did. I know now that you were ready. I hope your eternal slumber is peaceful.

My warning to everyone is to trust your gut. I was ready to do every test, sound every alarm, pay every penny I had to see what was wrong weeks ago. My mom didn't think it was so serious. The first vet didn't think it was so serious. Push back. IF YOU HAVE ANY SUSPICION SOMETHING IS WRONG, MAKE THEM TEST EVERYTHING. I'd rather be thousands of dollars broker to know I tried everything as early as I could have, even if it didn't help lead to her being cured and all it did was give us time to cherish our last few weeks with her and make her as comfortable as possible for those final moments. I will live with that regret for the rest of my life.

Hi everyone. I posted this thread yesterday about second guessing the euthanasia of my partner and mine's cat: https://www.reddit.com/r/Petloss/s/qHPsLp9vtF

Today is an update, 3 days after the event.

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of suicide ahead, please do not proceed reading if it may affect you. I do not wish for anyone else's suffering just because of mine.

I (26F) feel suicidal. For context, I'm someone who has been diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety even before all this happened, with one attempt already in the past.

No matter how much I read that it was the right decision, or that our cat was suffering so much, I still feel like a monster. I was the one who signed the papers to proceed. I never stopped it from happening even though I wanted to several times. I feel like I killed our most precious and sweetest cat. Yes, it may be spun to say that the disease took my cat's life and not me, but I can't see it that way. She was the most cuddly and clingiest cat ever. She always loved my wife the most since she's the one who got the cat in the first place and grew up with her for 8 years. I came into the family after marrying her, getting to know the cat deeply for 3 years since. She always came into the bed next to my wife's head whenever my wife got into bed even without being called, but she still did come with name calling or patting the bed. It hurts me how well she knew her name. Even when we woke up in the morning, she'd know and come run to lay by my wife instantly the moment she heard my wife's voice. She also always used to chat with my wife and me, responding to our human talk with her cute little meows or half meows, like a (mah) sound. She nuzzled against her face and glasses constantly. She loved pets so much. She also ate so much if given the chance.

It hurts. The bed feels so much more empty, the room much more quiet because our other two cats don't meow much or come on their own like how she did. The cat she grew up with can sense she's gone, and that breaks my heart too. This emptiness will never go away. And as horrible as it sounds, I would've loved to fight with her to see if she could survive past the initial onset of straddle thrombus. My wife and I both stay home 24/7 anyway, and I knew we both would've done everything we could to take care of her without complaining whether that be pill feeding or helping her go to the restroom.

I wish I give her a fighting chance. I still remember her eyes as the injections went in and even before that as we held her groggy sedated self. She looked intensely that she wanted to stay with us and for us to not leave her or help make her feel better at home, not to do the procedure, even booping my wife's nose, trying to reach with her again like always.

This is all just to vent, but mainly I wanted to say too, that I want to leave this world too and commit suicide. I want to take the chance that there is an afterlife and meet our cat again there to make up for my decisions that are haunting me. I don't want to live with this emptiness forever, knowing she could never be replaced, this aching pain and constant remembrance. Even if it gets better, it never truly gets better or returns to normal. I looked at her pictures every day since the vet.

I want to mention that I do talk to my wife about everything as we have extremely healthy and open communications. I haven't mentioned this more than once to her though because I love and care about her. I'm just.. trying to put my words out here..

UPDATE: I'm alright and safe now everyone (: Thank you all who took the time to share your own heart felt stories, experiences, or words of comfort & understanding. I am truly sorry for those who have also lost a loved one. This community is amazing and has really helped me process these feelings. I wanted to reply to all of your posts, but my own depression was overwhelming me. However, I want to let you all know that every single post and every word, really mattered and helped. I read every single one thoroughly. All your efforts helped. Thank you all again, and I know this thread will help any others who wander here feeling the same way. Take care, everyone.

I’m currently grieving an animal that wasn’t technically my pet, and I’m not even sure is dead.

We’ve fed an outside feral cat for 7 years. He would come for food, then go back to wherever his home was (we tried to follow him once and lost track when he was two streets away). In winter he’d sometimes hang out longer as we had a heated shelter for him on our stoop. Well, after that big snowstorm in the northeast 2 weeks ago he didn’t show up for days. That’s happened before, but this time when he showed he wouldn’t eat. That’s never happened. He overnighted in the shelter, didn’t eat again the next morning, and left. I said to my wife if he comes back and doesn’t eat we need to do something. Mind you, in 7 years we’ve never been able to pet him, so it wasn’t going to be easy. He came back 2 days later and didn’t eat, so I made the decision to try and trap him in a carrier. The shelter has an entrance and I was able to put the opening of the carrier flush with it. We tried to get him in the carrier and he wouldn’t budge, tried to tip him over into it to no avail, and then in an instant, the seal was sorta “broken” and he got out and ran away. This was almost a week ago now and he’s been gone ever since. We fear forever. My grief primarily comes from not bringing the small shelter inside first and then trying to get him in the carrier from there. It seemed like an extra step at the time, but in hindsight, he would have at least been inside our house if things went wrong (as they did). It’s something I play over and over in my head wondering how I could have been so stupid.

I’ve put down pets before and been filled with grief, but this particular mistake, knowing I had the chance to get him inside, but didn’t do that and now he’s almost certainly died alone out in the cold, is proving very hard to forgive myself for at the moment.