Tag: cat

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Feeling guilt over the death of my cat

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I’ve spoken a little over the past few days how one of the things affecting me since Stan was run over last weekend is my sense of guilt.

Guilt has always been something that I’ve encountered when we lost one of our other cats, but in all those cases it was different. Each one of them died at the veterinary practice because the decision had been taken to end their suffering. We have lost them to cancers, kidney failure and suspected poisoning from eating something they shouldn’t have while they were outside, and in every case it was very clear that easing their suffering was the most dignified, humane, and loving thing to do. Despite this, the guilt was still overwhelming. Should we have done more for them? Did we overlook something that might have changed the outcome? The feeling of remorse at the times we were too busy to spend time with them (often busy just doing unimportant stuff in the grand scheme of things). And possibly worst of all, the feeling that we might have given up on them too soon. All our other cats lived to a relatively good age – only Tom, another cheeky little black and white fella, died younger, but even he was eight years old. Still too soon though.

The guilt I feel over the loss of Stan is different. It isn’t guilt over a decision to end his suffering, it’s guilt that I could have done something that would have preserved his life. All it would have taken was for me to come downstairs, walk through the kitchen (as I did anyway) and then into the utility-room and lock up his cat-flap for the night. It would have taken a few seconds and he would have been safe and sound in the house with us. Instead, I made a cup of tea and sat down with my wife in the living room to watch a movie. And while we watched, Stan went outside, went onto the road, and then lost his life.

Everywhere I look I’m told that I shouldn’t blame mysef for something like this. I couldn’t have known what was going to happen. I thought he was asleep upstairs still. He’d been outside on many other occasions at this time and always been ok. He sometimes wouldn’t go out at all and would instead just come into the living room and nip at my ankles until I made some room for him to spread out.

But if I’d just locked the cat flap…

It feels a little like the world’s most awful videogame, where the mission is to keep your beloved pet cat safe and well, and I failed. Only instead of re-starting the level and making different choices in order to get a successful outcome, the game just ended with no way for it to ever be played again. It feels a bit cheap to be making an analogy like this. And disrespectful to Stan. But my mind keeps on wanting to re-play the events of last Saturday night as though somehow, maybe in some miracle, I will actually be able to change time and Stan will be back with us, full of love, affection, and mischief.

I was responsible for Stan. I was responsible for giving him a safe home, providing him with food and comfort, keeping him healthy and happy, keeping him safe, and providing him with love. And on one of those things I failed because of a moment of carelessness. The guilt I feel is because of my love for him, and it is because I failed in my duty to him. While I believe that this guilt will ease and the pain I feel will lessen, I’m not sure that I will ever be able to forgive myself properly, and that for the rest of my life, from time to time, I will remember what happened and how I might have so easily changed things. I guess this is a burden of loving

I’ve written this today because I found this page on pet-loss guilt last night. It contains a sentence that seems particularly important given what I’ve spoken about today:

If a beloved pet goes missing or dies suddenly or traumatically, we can tear ourselves apart with guilt for not having foreseen what would happen.

If only…. How to deal with pet loss guilt

I actually found that this poage helped with how I am feeling quite a lot, despite what I’ve written above (in fact I would recommend the site from where it is taken – The Ralph Site – as a very good resource for anyone suffering through the loss of a pet or animal companion). And, despite the somewhat downbeat nature of this blog post, I do believe that things will get better over time. My love for Stan is what causes me this pain right now. But my love for him is what will prevail in the end.

I’ll close the post with another photo of Stan. Seeing him makes me happy.

The decorator forgot his dust-sheet. It soon became Stan’s…
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Ups and downs

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It feels sometimes like I’m starting to feel a little better, that some of the rawness is easing a little, and that maybe there’s some light at the end of the tunnel somewhere. And then, all of a sudden, that disappears and I’m back to feeling pretty desolate again. I’ve been looking at pictures of Stan and they make me smile. They make me smile with a big helping of sadness just now, but I’m smiling nonetheless. In the cupboard where we keep the mugs in the kitchen, up on the top shelf, is an “I love my cat” mug that is personalised with his photograph. It makes me smile and think how I love him, but it also puts a big ol’ lump in my throat just now too.

This morning I went into the utility room for something or other, which is where the box that my wife has put all his possessions inside still sits on the counter. It’s sad to look at that, but this morning it was the draining-board beside the sink that got me. It’s where we laid his body wrapped in a towel after we brought him back to the house after the accident. One glance and the terrible feeling of loss came back in an instant and there I was, blubbing again. I’m still beating myself up about the things I might have done differently and that would have changed events. It’s very hard not to do so.

I think the tears help. They release the pain and allow me to function, like the overspill on a dam they stop me breaking further. I don’t know if people think that it’s soppy for a grown man to be wearing his heart on his sleeve like this, but I’m finding that it helps to talk about how I’m feeling. I think that, day by day, it will get easier, and at some point my guilt will instead be that I’ve not cried or felt as sad, and that somehow that means I don’t care as much anymore. But that won’t be the case, I’ll never not care, it’s just the healing process.

I spent some time today reading a cat-owners thread on the web forum I frequent. I’ve spoken about Stan’s loss on there and how I’m feeling. I searched the thread today looking for posts from other people who had lost their cats in similar circumstances. I’m not sure if that seems weird, but I find that there is comfort to be taken from shared experiences in cases like this. Knowing we’re not alone in what we are going through makes the experinece a little less lonely somehow. That other people felt similar sadness, loss, and guilt when they lost their cats makes me realise that these are normal emotions (even though I already knew this anyway). I guess you take your comfort where you can find it.

I’ll close the blog today with another photo of Stan being Stan. We bought a new toaster a few weeks ago for our new kitchen and I left some of the polystyrene packaging on the table. It didn’t take long for Stan to find his new place to sit. 🙂 xxx

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Just carrying on

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After taking the day off yesterday, I went back to work today. I work from home so it’s not like I have a commute or anything, but having a home office means that I’m still constantly reminded of Stan’s presence (and lack of it now 😦 ). He would sometimes jump up on my desk while I worked, often getting in my way until I would lift him back to the floor, gently chiding him for his mischievousness. Sometimes though he would hop onto the window-sill beside my desk an keep an eye on the toings-and-froings outside. Today, while working, I noticed three or four of his hairs there on the sill where he used to sit. They’re still there now as I type this. I don’t know how to deal with them. Part of me thinks I should just move them away so that I don’t feel sad every time I see them. Another part of me wants to be reminded of his presence and that I should feel sad. They’re his hairs and are precious now that he’s gone. But this in itself is somewhat silly as I’ve already tucked a small tuft of his fur into my phone case and, while it makes me feel bad to say so, they’re just hairs – he didn’t present them to me as a gift, they’re just a few stray strands that fell from him while he sat looking out of the window one day.

I always find it difficult to let things go, especially small physical mementos like this. It’s not even as though we don’t have other things to keep to treasure his memory. We have his collar and nametag, his food dishes and his bed (themselves in some cases hand-me-downs from our other cats), countless photos (including a bunch of Instax snaps stuck on the side of the fridge), some videos, plus all the memories held in our heads and hearts. Despite this, the thought of disposing of these few stray hairs upsets me, as though disposing of these hairs is somehow disposing of his memory, which it most definitely is not.

I think that, if my wife were to read this, she’d tell me I need to stop dwelling on things like this, that I need to think of the happy times and start to move on. I know she is as upset at Stan’s loss as I am, but she’s always been able to deal with things like mementoes in a more practical and non-sentimental fashion. She’s packed up his dishes and other possessions today, washed his bed, and will put them somewhere safe in the event we ever get another cat one day. I’m glad she’s done this as, while seeing these things tidied away upsets me, it also upset me to see them just hanging around knowing Stan will never be here to use them again, and I don’t know if I could have faced packing them away myself, at least not yet. His scratching-post is still in the utility room and I know that this will have to be thrown away. He managed to scratch large parts of the rope-binding off it while sharpening his claws and it’s not something that can really be donated elsewhere in its current state (although it’s probably still perfectly good for claw sharpening). So this will need to be disposed of, and it will instil another note of finality to his time here with us and bring me further sadness.

Maybe he’s looking down on me as I type these things, making mental note of my promises to let him nip and scratch me for treats, playtime and cuddles to his heart’s content. I like that thought.

I know that this is billed as a film photography blog, but at this particular time I feel I need to talk about how I’m feeling, both as a tribute to Stan, and also as a means of dealing with my emotions. He meant so very much to me.

Stan was never one to miss an opportuinty of a comfy place to sleep XXX
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Grieving

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I made the arrangements today for Stan’s body to be taken to the pet crematorium. He, or his body at least, should now be there and we’ll probably have his ashes back with us later in the week. We’ve had all our other cats cremated when their lives ended and Stan will be in good company amongst them when he is returned.

I’m grieving for his loss and it hurts. Everywhere I look there is evidence of him, either in the form of his possessions, or in memories of his life. I want him back so much but know I can’t and it’s so painful. I feel guilty that I didn’t look after him well enough and that it’s my fault he was out when he was. I also feel guilty for the times I pushed him away because I had to get on with other things. I know that this is part of the grief and a normal thing to experience, and that none of us can see the future before it happens, but it doesn’t stop me reliving events and somehow trying to wind back time to change how it unfolded. I would take all the annoyance he could throw at me without complaint to have him back. He was my friend and I love him.

I was supposed to have my laptop re-built today but had to cancel the appointment and take a sick day. The thought of being in the drab grey room where the work would be carried out was not something I felt I could bear. Instead I’ve spent most of the day with the TV switched to daytime programmes just to have some inoffensive background noise while looking at other people’s experiences of losing cats online. This might seem a bit depressing, but I find some comfort in the fact that we’re not alone in suffering such a loss, and that others have felt the same way and gone on to recover again.

There was still some of his blood on the road where he died which I could see from our house windows and today I took out a bucket of soapy water and a brush to wash it away. It felt disrespectful to leave it there even though rain would wash it away before long. It’s Stan’s blood and I couldn’t bear the thought of it being there to be gawped at or run over by other cars.

I know that the grief will pass in time, as it has before, but the suddenness of his passing and his young age make this feel especially tragic. It’s at times like this that I sometimes wish I was a more spiritual person, I’m not really a believer in an afterlife, but I dearly hope that I am wrong on this and that one day I can be reunited with all my lost loved ones.

Love you Stan x

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Goodbye Stan

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Yesterday evening our lovely little cat, Stan, was hit by a car and killed. We are bereft.

I miss him so much and feel guilty at his loss. People who read this blog may know that he was hit by a car once before, a few months ago, but happily made a full recovery. Following that, we decided that we would keep him indoors at nighttime as, given he was dark furred, and that is the time when people seem to drive faster on the road that passes out house, that he would be safer if he only went out during the daytime. We would make sure that he couldn’t get out in the evenings but, as the days have shortened into autumn, he would still go out for a short while during darkness but would then come straight in when we shouted his name or, more often, by himself.

Yesterday evening I last saw him asleep on top of a box in my office and thought he was safely indoors. Unknown to me he must have come downstairs not long afterwards and gone outside before we closed up his catflap. A short while after that we heard a knock at the door and found a lady looking very upset, asking if we had a small black cat called Stan. When I said yes she told us that he’s been struck by a car and had died. My wife and I ran out to him and it was awful to find him just laid on the grass verge beside the road. I think I thanked the lady for letting us know but, to be honest, it’s all a bit of a blur. My wife was distraught and I think I was in shock.

We wrapped him in a towel, carried him back home and my wife, our two sons who still live with us, and I said our goodbyes. After that we placed him into a box and put him in the garage overnight where it is cool. I felt so bad doing this and had a paranoid idea that perhaps he was just unconcious and that we’d abandoned him – so much so that I had to go back in the garage and check later to make sure and put my mind at rest.

This morning we took his body to the vets. I didn’t like doing this, but if felt better to be doing something than leaving him in the cold garage all weekend – that felt undignified and not what I wanted for him. On Monday morning we will need to contact the pet crematorium for them to collect his little body for cremation before we can have his casket of ashes returned to us. Stan is the sixth cat we’ve had the privilege of having be part of our family over the past thirty years but the first we’ve lost suddenly like this (and also the youngest). He will sit at rest beside his brothers.

I think Stan might be the last cat we have, at least while we live in this house. The thought of putting another at risk, and the worry we would have every time they went outside, is not something I think we could bear. His loss, and the thought he might be the last cat we have for some time is terribly sad, and hard to think about. Time heals though and I need to concentrate on the joy he brought us. All cats are individuals and Stan was no exception. He was the only cat we’ve had who’s method of getting attention was to gently nip and scratch my ankles and lower legs. This could be very annoying and sometimes painful, but I would rarely get cross with him – it was just the way he knew how to get things done. I have a number of small scars on my legs as a result of his attentions and I am now so grateful for them – I’ll carry his marks for the rest of my life – but I wish he were still here to scratch me afresh.

I miss you so much Stan. I don’t know how this universe works, but I hope we might be together again one day. Love you always little man.

35mm · Film photography · Photography

Dodgems not bumper cars

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I’ve always thought that the name you choose for this particualt fairground attraction defines you as a person to a degree. Are you someone who loves the anarchy and destruction of ramming your car into your fellows? Or are you the type that thrills at the near misses and skillful escapes required to avoid impacts? I’ve always fallen into the latter group, eager to avoid conflict and trouble where possible in my life. This is complete cod-psychology hokum of course (although I wonder if someone has done a study? 😉 ), but it serves a purpose for today.

After yesterday’s unhappy experience of our cat being hit by a car, we’ve had to take him back to the vet today. Although he was drinking a little yesterday, it soon became apparent that he couldn’t eat – although he was cleary hungry and was pestering us for food. So this morning, following the advice from the vet yesterday, we took him back so they could make sure he got some fluids and nutrition. They decided it would be wise to sedate him and give him a more thorough examination than they could yesterday, including an x-ray, so my wife took him this morning and left him there to be looked after.

We received a call this afternoon that is tongue was not only bruised, but also lacerated, so they have had to put some stitches in. His cheeks were swollen and they’ve also removed some loose teeth. He’s been in the wars somewhat and has been very lucky that it wasn’t much more serious than it was. We should be able to pick him up in the morning and get him on the road to recovery. Fingers are crossed that he will be ok.

I’m hoping he’s a dodgem type cat and will evade any further problems.

Dodgems or bumpers?
What kind of car do you choose?
I dodge and don’t bump.

Dodgem cars

Nikon F80, Nikkor 50mm f/1.8GD & Ilford HP5+. Ilfotec DD-X 1+4 9mins @ 20°.

Taken on 14 August 2021

35mm · Film photography · Photography

A trip to the vets

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I woke up this morning to an unpleasant shock.

Usually, when I go downstairs, I’m greeted by our cat. He’s either on the back garden when I open the blinds, or is waiting inside the utility room. He’s almost always awake and ready for his breakfast. This morning he wasn’t there when I opened the blinds, but as it had been raining I wasn’t surprised, and when I opened the door into the utility room he was laid in his bed, waking at the sound of my entry. At first I wondered about this slightly unusual occurence, but then my eyes alighted on a stain on the edge of his bed and, swiftly after, some blood on his forepaw and a lot of blood around his nose and mouth.

Bending down to get a closer look I could see he’s suffered some sort of injury. My first though was that he’d been in a fight with another cat, or perhaps a bigger animal. Whatever the case, I was alarmed and quickly grabbed my phone to ring the vet’s out-of-hours service. I was able to get an appointment for him to be seen at 10am. While his face, particularly his lower lip, looked to be a mess, he was walking around and not limping. He was very subdued though and showed no interest in being fed.

He was quite vocal in his cat-carrier during the car ride to the vets, which in a way was a relief. He never likes trips in the car like this and the fact he was making is displeasure known was much better than silence. After arriving at the vets – due to Covid restrictions – we had to wait outside and explain to a member of staff what the problem was. Someone then came and collected him from us and told us to wait and that they would call on my wife’s mobile phone when the vet had assessed his condition. After a 15-minute wait, we got the call. The vet was under the belief that he had been struck by a car as he had some damage to his claws and pads which is a common injury in such events. He looked to have taken a knock to his head which raised concern about injuries to his bones -perhaps a fractured jaw – but the vet was confident that this wasn’t the case. He’d not shown too much distress or signs of extreme discomfort when being examined and his reactions, alertness, and vitals were all good. He had a nasty graze on his cheek and lower lip and a bruised tongue however.

The vet advised a dose of pain relief and anti-inflamatory, along with further liquid pain medication for us to administer from the next day – although we were to watch and make sure he was eating and drinking. Because of the discomfort with his tongue and mouth, there is a chance he may need to go back to the vets to be tube-fed is he can’t manage to eat and drink himself. While I’ve not seen him eat anything yet (he’s been asleep most of the day) he did have a decent drink of water from his bowl earlier, which was good to see.

We’ve decided to restrict him to the house this evening (and dug his old litter tray from the garage!) so that we know he’s safe overnight. Fingers crossed he will be on the mend soon. It’s at times like these when you realise just how much these little friends weedle their way into your life and heart.

Not much of a photography post today I suppose, but it is what it is.

Cats can be worries
Attempting to use nine lives
In their adventures

Love cats

Yashica Mat 124G, close-up #1 lens & Ilford HP5+. Ilfotec DD-X 1+4 9mins @ 20°.

Taken on 10 January 2020

35mm · Film photography · Photography

Looking forlorn in the kitty cafe

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In recent years there have been a significant number of cat cafes open in the UK. These are regular cafes, but home to several cats. The idea being that you get to enjoy a coffee and some cake while watching, stroking and (if they’ll let you) cuddling the cats. You usually have to book a place as they’re very popular and entry to the premises is controlled through an airlock-style double door system to prevent mass escapes.

As with so many other things however, the cat cafes have been hit by the pandemic and lockdown. While some may be starting to re-open now, when I passed this one a few weeks ago it was still closed for business and this little lady was looking forlornly from the window.

Looking forlorn in the kitty cafe

Olympus OM-2n, F.Zuiko 50mm f/1.8 & Ilford HP5+ (@800asa). Ilfotec DD-X 1+4 10 mins @ 20°.

Taken on 21 June 2020

35mm · Film photography · Photography

Stan’s little escapade

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I’ve been talking about the current pandemic over the last few days but I don’t really have anything to say about it today – I’ve avoided the news for the most part, and the only things that have really brought it to mind have been the things I saw while out for a walk before lunch (nothing very extraordinary, but maybe I’ll cover them in a future blog when I have the photos I took developed).

Instead I’ll tell a short tale of Stan, our cat, and what happened to him yesterday…

Stan lets himself in and out of the house when he chooses through a cat-flap and, while he goes out a lot, he’s usually making his presence known throughout the day (generally folloing us into the kitchen and begging for treats or, if it’s meal-time, nipping at my feet for attention). Yesterday afternoon howerver he was nowhere to be seen. Even after his usual mealtime there was no sign of him and, as it began to get dark, I had pangs of worry. Shouting him and shaking his treat box didn’t elicit a response.

My thoughts were that he’d either seen something interesting (maybe a mouse or an insect or something) and was now waiting patiently somewhere for his opportunity to snare it. Another alternative was that he’d gotten himself trapped somewhere. There is always the additional concern that he might be struck by a car when he’s out but, to my knowledge, his territory doesn’t reach across the road beside our house and, if it did, the current coronavirus situation means that traffic is very much reduced anyway.

Thinking he could be trapped, my first idea was to check the garage. He enjoys going in there – I think he knows he’s not supposed to and so will dart in as the door is opened if the opportunity presents itself. It was possible he’d slipped in unnoticed and gotten himself locked in. However, there was no sign when I checked.

After about another hour of him not appearing, I racked my memory to think when I’d last seen him and remembered that it was when I’d returned home after my supermarket trip – he’d been sat on the doorstep as I unloaded the bags and then, after not coming in when I’d finished, I closed the door, shutting him outside.

And then another thing struck me. About five minutes after unpacking the groceries, my wife had told me I’d left the hatch-back open on the car, so I went outside and closed it,

Could it be that he’d poked his inquisitive little nose into the car while it was opened and then gotten locked in? Why yes. Yes it could!

I went back outside and opened the boot whereupon he instantly leapt, gazelle-like, out of his prison, eliciting a loud bark of relieved laughter from me. Thankfully he wasn’t any the worse for wear (and, equally importantly, hadn’t needed the toilet while trapped!).

It’s always a worry when a cat doesn’t come home when expected, and always a big relief when they turn up safely. I will add a boot-check in future when we unload the shopping.

I maybe also need to take some more photos of him that I can easily post on the blog if required – apart from loads of Instax pictures, I think this is the only film shot I have of him (and it was the end of the roll!).

FILM - Sofa cat

Olympus 35 RC & Eastman Double-X.

Taken on 13 September 2019

35mm · Film photography · Photography

See you later ol’ fella

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We had to say goodbye to our cat, Luigi, last night. He was 19 years old, so had enjoyed a pretty long life for a moggy, but his health had been failing over recent years. He was pretty much totally blind and deaf, and was diagnosed with chronic kidney failure last year. He’s been on a special renal diet and daily blood pressure medication for the past few months but over recent weeks had started to lose a lot of weight and suffer from stomach upsets.

We took him to the vets yesterday probably expecting the worse, but also hoping for the best, but the diagnosis was that he had contracted a secondary digestive illness, possibly IBS or lymphoma. While steroids can be given to help relieve these, this isn’t possible for a cat with renal problems, so there was nothing to be done.

We love him very much, but didn’t want him to suffer, so agreed with the vet that it was time to say goodbye.

Farewell old buddy, we have so many happy memories of you. You were loved and will be missed so very much. 😦

FILM - Old fella

Nikon F70, Nikkor 28-80mm f/3.5-5.6 D & Kodak Tmax P3200.

Taken January 2019