The clippings from the first lawn mowing of the year The pruned-off dead bits from the eggplants and chilis that survived the winter Last year's dead tomato plants The "Black Beauty" eggplants I decided to rip out A whole bunch of oleander leaves Sawdust-based kitty litter A dead dove Anything raked up from where the tomato plants used to be In short, anything that will decompose goes into the compost, not the city trash bin.

I just want to thank everyone who posted - so many of you - with wonderful, kind words. You can't imagine how much a good cry helped (every time I read and re-read it) - or maybe you can since you've been there, too. Friday was the most horrible day, and Saturday was pretty bad, too. Saturday I received a link to the most remarkable piece of writing from dear Jeri. It was like a dose of anesthetic for the unrelenting agony and enabled me to transition toward thinking of him at rest. Sunday night and this morning I got a little teary, so I brought "the will" (see the link below) with me to work because I wanted another dose of the painkiller. Turns out I didn't need it. The photo of Pepper I had put on my desktop at work on Friday (which I couldn't bare to look at then) was a happy comfort today. As I was shutting down to come home, happy thought ("Sweet boy") was followed by profoundly sad thought ("but he's not here"). When I called DH on my way home & asked him what he was doing, "looking for old pictures of Pepper on the computer". Since DH is retired, Pepper was with him all day. There is such a huge hole in our little family. He was a gentle, unassuming fellow who was so willing to patiently wait in line for his kisses when I got home - AFTER his demanding sister, the Brittany - never pushy until he made physical contact. For some reason he loved to stick his head between my thighs and get his hug that way while I rubbed his back. It worked for him! and gave me such a laugh every time. He made each of us feel like he was a daddy's boy AND a mama's boy. What a blessing to have thought to go to the animal shelter that Saturday in 1998 to "see is they have any standard poodles." They did - 3!! He was the only one healthy enough to be adopted at 35 lbs (compared to his normal 58 lbs). So we're enjoying our memories now with occasional tears, thankful for the photos and each other's willingness to share moments from the past and talk about him at length. No stuffing of emotions here, thankfully! Here's his glamour shot after a trip to the groomer - which he sorely hated. Thank you again. You are a very precious group, and DH thinks so, too. He said it was tough getting through this thread. Nice people, he said. Sherry Here is a link that might be useful: Leaving from the pet's perspective

Here's my experience: I had 3 cats, two yellow males and a yellow female, all from the same litter. They showed up here as feral kittens. After feeding them for awhile, we finally tamed them, got vaccinations, spayed and neutered and started keeping them inside. About 5 years ago,when they were about 9, one male got sick. I took him to the vet, he was diagnosed with renal failure. The doctor said we might try giving him fluid and trying to keep him alive, but she didn't sound very hopeful about the outcome, so I had him euthanized. I had bloodwork on the other 2 done then, and they were normal, although the other male was in the high normal range. The vet didn't suggest that I should have him rechecked after some time had passed, so I assumed I didn't need to worry about his kidneys. After about a year and a half passed, the other male lost weight (down to about 8 pounds from about 11) and I suspected he had renal failure too. I took him to the vet, a different doctor saw him, and it was renal failure. He convinced me to do the fluid and see if he would improve. So I did. After about 3 days of force feeding him canned Hills AD, he started eating dry Hills KD and gained weight. His appetite was fine once he started eating. He eventually gained weight to 10 pounds, and maintained it until a few months ago. He started out with fluid every day until his creatinine and bun went down some. Then every other day. Then every third day. Early on, he was anemic, so the doctor started him on EPO injections. That took care of the anemia and he didn't develop the antibodies that some cats develop. After a few months I asked the doctor (this time it was the doctor who had seen the first cat) if I needed to be concerned about his blood pressure, and she said that she was sure his blood pressure was fine. (They couldn't check it anyway, no Doppler machine.) One evening about a week later I realized he was blind. I took him to the emergency clinic in Charlotte, NC and his blood pressure was so high it wasn't readable. They kept him overnight, got his bp down, and sent him home with a prescription for Norvasc and told me to give him Pepcid daily, as well. That took care of that problem. While at the emergency place, which is also a specialty veterinary clinic, he was transferred to internal medicine, and was fortunate to get an excellent doctor who told me his specialty is nephrology. I started taking him there for his regular bloodwork and checkups, even though it was more expensive. There's no doubt in my mind that taking him to the specialist made a big difference in how well he did for so long. As time passed, and his creatinine started rising as his remaining kidney got worse, I increased the fluid to 200 ml. once a day. His creatinine never did go down near normal. It was always over 5, and even when it was around 8 his appetite was good and he seemed to feel fine. That's how I gauged how he felt, by how he was eating and how he acted. About 6 weeks ago his creatinine had gone up from 6.6 to 10. I could tell he was not feeling as well, and he wasn't eating as much. I increased his EPO injections to once a week, from every other week. Dr. Jaeger said EPO seems to help lower the creatinine in some cats. When I took him back about 10 days ago his creatinine had only gone down to 9.6 from 10.1. His blood pressure was a little high, too. He wasn't eating much at all, so I got Cyproheptadine (appetite stimulant). That was on Friday, July 6. He was scheduled for another appointment on July 26. When I brought him home that Friday, I persuaded him to eat a little canned Hills AD twice that evening. Saturday he ate a little more of it. Sunday he wouldn't eat it, so I tried no salt added canned tuna. He ate just a few bites. He also was not drinking much at that point. I was still giving him 200 ml fluid daily, and his medications. Monday he wouldn't eat at all and had not drank more than a couple tablespoons of water. Thinking it might take a while for the appetite stimulant to work, I put off calling the vet. Monday night I opened his mouth like I would to give him a pill and popped a little tuna in. He swallowed it but wasn't interested in eating at all. Tuesday I called the specialist and he said to bring him in. We had discussed at the previous appointment that he was near the end, and the doctor and I agreed that I wouldn't force feed him since he wasn't going to get any better, but the doctor thought he'd be ok for another 3 weeks or so. Our objective was to keep him comfortable if possible. By Monday night I had already made up my mind that it was time to end it before he got in worse shape. I had also realized Monday that he wasn't urinating as much as he should have been for the past couple days, so his remaining kidney function wasn't enough to produce much urine. I weighed him and it looked like he had gained about a pound, but I know it was fluid because he hadn't eaten enough to put on any weight. So when I took him to the doctor Tuesday morning he examined him and said that there was nothing we could do to help him at this point. So I had him euthanized. I hated to do it but I know it was the right thing to do. I feel better about it knowing that he only seemed to feel really really bad for a couple days at the most. Monday night, before I took him to the doctor Tuesday, he jumped up on the bed and I petted him for a good while. He purred while I petted him, even though he hadn't purred for at least a month. Now, here's what happened with his sister. She had some spells of vomiting, starting 6 months ago. The regular vet couldn't find anything wrong with her. Her bloodwork was fine, although her calcium was a little high. After a couple days she'd be fine, and start eating again. She had gradually lost some weight, but he attributed it to her getting older (she was obese at 15 pounds for a long time, and even when she got down to 10 pounds she looked chubby, because she was a small cat). After one of the vomiting spells, I took her to the emergency clinic at night because I thought she might be dehydrated. They did bloodwork and it was fine, but the specific gravity of her urine was not quite normal, and could possibly be an indicator of early renal disease. They didn't suggest she needed to be transferred to internal medicine, so I didn't worry about it. That was in April, I think. She seemed fine for a while. Then about 6 or 7 weeks ago, she was sick again so I took her to the regular vet, mostly because I thought she might need fluid and I couldn't tell if she was dehydrated, so I didn't want to do fluid at home if she didn't need it. They did bloodwork and her creatinine and bun levels showed renal failure. Other than the urinalysis being somewhat abnormal earlier, we had no clue that it would be renal failure. I don't remember how high it was, but she needed IV fluid at least overnight, so the new young female vet at the regular vet's office said that if it was her cat she'd take her to the specialty vet, and since he was already seeing my male, I knew he'd see the female too. They took her as an emergency patient, hospitalized her, and kept her for about 4 days. He said her kidneys were worse than the male's. Her creatinine didn't go down much, but I brought her home and started the same routine with her, fluid, blood pressure meds, pepcid. She seemed to do a little better, and started to eat, so I took her for her followup appointment around the first of June. Her creatinine wasn't going down much, but we didn't think she was in any danger of getting worse quickly and her appetite had improved. That afternoon when I brought her home from the appointment she went to the bowl and ate some food. I thought she was ok, but from then on, she went downhill fast. I had an appointment for her about a week later on Tuesday, June 12, but she got so sick I took her to the emergency clinic the following Saturday night instead of waiting til Tuesday. She wouldn't eat, I was forcefeeding her canned Hills AD. She hated getting the pills but got too weak to object much. She couldn't even walk to the litter box. I had to carry her. They called Sunday morning to say she had perked up some, but wasn't ready to go home. So I thought she might be ok. Then Sunday night the emergency doctor called and said she wasn't doing well at all. She wasn't producing urine and had fluid in her chest and abdominal cavities. That doctor had called the specialist (who had not been able to see her that time because of an out of town conference, but had just got back into town), and he agreed that there was nothing they could do for her, so I had her euthanized. It was harder with her, because with the male, I had about 3 years to know it was going to happen eventually. She had seemed ok (except for the occasional vomiting spells) up until a few months ago. The specialist said that the male had done much better than he would have predicted when he first saw him with the high blood pressure, and the female went down much quicker than he expected, although he knew her kidneys were worse than the males. The male was diagnosed in September of 2004, I think, and he lasted until this past Tuesday, July 10. The female was diagnosed this past May 21, and I lost her on June 10. Exactly a month apart. One thing the specialist said early on was that you never can predict how long the cat will live or how they'll respond to treatment. He didn't think my male would live much longer from when he first saw him in Dec. 2004, and he's had a lot of renal failure patients.

I love the idea too. Not silly or morbid. I know this isn't exactly the same thing, but when we moved from our little mountain house to our current house I wrote my kids names in a secret place in their bedroom. I was a bit heartbroken to be moving from the home I brought my babies home to. So In a hidden place in their room I left their names and the dates we lived there. I felt better knowing a piece of them would be there as long as the house was. They felt better about it too. It's our little secret.