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28th February 2008
Less Than a Month After Max Dies, Cody Dies
Today at 1:30 p.m., Cody passed into I pray, I truly pray, a better spiritual world. She suffered so much in the past few days and last several hours. When I walked out of the vet hospital yesterday evening, I looked back at her, and she had a “look” on her face - as she turned around and looked at everyone staring back at her with lots of emotion, from that point on, for all intents, Cody was nearly gone.
As I blogged earlier today in the wee hours of the morning, Cody had a terrible night. She was starting to spit up blood last night, and today, she began to drool a milky bloody film. She had a ticking sound in her throat, as if you could hear the fluid in her body. I chose to have her put down at noon - at my house - in the foyer.
My wonderful pet sitter, Tamara, came early and picked up Lucky so Cody and I could have some final peaceful moments together without distraction from a very hyper dog, who is oblivious to anything painful (which is a good and bad thing at times).
God gave us sunlight today - thankfully - so Cody basked in the sunlight early this morning, pointing her body in the direction of the sun rising. She didn’t mind the snow or the frigid temperatures. In fact, as soon as Lucky left with Tamara, it seemed Cody was preparing herself for her final hours, as if she knew it was her last sunrise. Cody was a furry bear black chow who loved cold weather, loved to sit under the tree in front of my house, and loved to breathe in the fresh air. I took her for one last ride in the car, through McD’s where she got a sausage, one last walk where she got to see her red chow friend, Tucker, and a few special visitors in her final hours.
Cody & Monroe, a month ago, right before Max died.Monroe, her rescued cat, came up and tried to be near her in her final hour, but Cody didn’t want Monroe around. Maybe Cody was protecting Monroe so she’d leave her alone - I don’t know. Maybe she was just worried Monroe would eat the food that Cody no longer wanted.
Cody, hardly present any more, hours before she died on Thursday afternoon.Note the picture above - I also have a video I’ll post later. You could see that life was leaving Cody, in her eyes. They were dull, triangular it seemed, and hanging on moment by moment. Her tail ceased to wag, if only for a moment or two in the last hours. It’s so hard when you know you have three hours, or two hours, or just minutes, to spend with your animal before they will be taken away in physical presence. Monroe stayed up stairs when the vets arrived, whereas with Max, Monroe was with us in the room. Misha stayed upstairs but the moment that Cody passed, within minutes, Misha came downstairs and walked by Cody, looking down at her on the floor.
Max & Misha, brothers, right before Max (orange) died. Cody a month
before she died.Cody’s body fought the medicine, the drugs - it took two doses and what seemed like at least 10 minutes for her body to stop. They couldn’t get the second dose into her body - it was rejecting the needle and medicine. About the time the vet said that Cody was close, Cody gave one final “hrummpgh” and then expired within a few moments later.
I prepared for my NY trip, and soon left with Cody in the car, one last time. Her eyes wouldn’t close - how heartbreaking - still there looking at me.
Cody was the best dog - truly the best dog ever - no accidents until the last week of her life - out of 13 years in her home - never an accident, never a chewed shoe, never a ruined piece of anything. She did have a thing for humping pillows - don’t ask me - have no clue. I did “not” teach her that. She was such a glorious, wise, loving, loyal, faithful, protective soul - who suffered much in her last days, just to hang on, to be near me, to love just a little longer.
I had strong friends and family support today - an old friend of mine - ironically wrote me yesterday afternoon. I had not heard from her in years. The story I was telling about Cody stealing stuffed animals, below, well it all began with Doris & Nick who introduced Cody to the life of stuffed animals. Doris wrote yesterday and it seemed fitting that the day that Cody died, I would reconnect with Doris. Nick, her 11 year old golden retriever, is still alive and kicking, although recovering from a sickness in December.
Nicole & Brutus, Doris & Nick, and Laura & Cody - it was always the three of us hanging out typically at Doris’ place with all three dogs checking out the two filled milk crates of stuffed animals. We’d fix up a cup of coffee or two, I think Doris always had flavored coffee or something - but I vague remember there always being something that brewed in her house while we watched the dogs play. Brutus the bulldog would growl, Cody would pull, and Nick would run interference.
All of these dogs have grown old, but Cody was the first to go - although she was the oldest of the three. It is because of Cody that I developed what I believe are life-long friendships. And it was fitting that on the day that Cody died, both Nicole and Doris, were very available by phone and text messages and emails to let them know that they were hurting too, and were there thinking of us.
I pray that Cody is in a better place - she couldn’t even die peacefully - but now, finally, her body rests. It was a relief to see her body no long heaving, gasping for air, and under duress. Finally, it was quiet - and her love - expired.
Now Cody - Death Watch - It’s Lung Cancer and It’s Bad
It is 2:30 in the morning. I sit here with dreary eyes on the couch, surrounded by Misha and Monroe, Lucky and Cody. It’s been less than a month that I put my 17-year old cat Max down.
Cody (chow dog), and her rescued kitty cat Monroe in 2004 (better days)About a week ago, Cody’s cough got worse - see blog posts on her from June 2007 and beyond. She’s been very sick off and on - and no, absolutely no diagnosis of what was wrong, despite invasive exploratory surgery at MedVet, xrays and exams at Ohio State University Vet Hospital, xrays, xrays and xrays at VCA vet hospitals - a discovery of a fist-sized lump that I could feel on her chest - no - it was benign they said. Now, tonight, just about 7 hours ago - they say that she has a massive cancerous tumor on her lungs, and then hundreds of bb-sized tumors spread throughout her lungs - she can’t get much air into her body so she gasps for air, coughs, and yes, as of the past 24 hours is even spitting up some blood.
I’m supposed to leave in a few short hours for New York to defend an account to a magazine I love. I’m 90% likely to lose it because of lack of implementation due to other site initiatives taking place and getting front-burner status, understandably so. But of course I want to fight for it - it’s significant revenue for my company. And yet, my dog, as I write is fighting for mere air and her last few moments of life.
How cruel - she’s never done harm to anyone - 13 years - and yet has been loyal to me, protective, loving, sensitive, protective, did I say protective? She’s a chow-mix. She’s protected her food for years, not to mention a few toys. She’s in fact stolen a few toys. I’ll never forget the time that we visited a dog friend whose parents were out of town. Cody ran down the stairs with this huge stuffed hedgehog in her mouth and out the door in to the courtyard. It got to be where I’d have to watch what she had in her mouth when we’d leave a friend’s house. Cody would steal any stuffed animal she preferred if we’d let her - then she’d run outside and look for a place to bury it.
I will miss Cody terribly - she’s lived in my office, my home, walked beside me, taken drives upon drives across the country, waited patiently for me, put up with me when she began to slow down, put up with Lucky, the new dog, and yet just wanted some last few peaceful moments with her cat, Monroe, and her owner, me.
The past month has been so difficult, so painful. I actually wonder where the stars and planets are aligned - because why are things so incredibly bad right now?
5th February 2008
St. Francis Acts Through Maxim in 2005
As promised last week, I wanted to repeat a portion of the story about Max and how he helped me to learn about St. Francis, which I blogged about in 2005 on the Bizresearch site. BY the way - Tornados are moving into the area tonight so I might have to put this post on hold. My cat Max died on 1/31/08, and I’ve been blogging about the good times since then, which you can read about in the category dedicated to my 4-legged kids.
Max Sleeping on 1/30/08, the night
before he died
Max, Misha & Monroe
resting togetherIn December 2005, I was getting ready for a Search Engine Strategies conference in Chicago - I had three speaking engagements that conference, and possibly a fourth session that I was moderating. Needless to say, when you run a company, have a personal life, and prepare for conference speaking engagements every three months it gets overwhelming. I was doing too much without a doubt.
Max, Misha (my two cats) and St. Francis of Assisi had a nice lesson in store for me as to what mattered most - and it wasn’t my speaking engagement at all. Looking back, I do not remember the speaking engagements one bit - I only remember losing my cat Misha for ten days. I was packing suitcases in my car in the garage, and doing so in a feverish pace. I said a quick goodbye to the animals - fretting about missing my plane. I remember fighting with my then-boyfriend about my staying at his place the night before - I didn’t want to do so because I’d be gone for a week from my pets. I felt guilty about leaving them. He was jealous to say the least. A balancing act indeed.
On that cold evening in December, 2005, I arrived in Chicago and received an urgent message from my pet sitter. She indicated that my cat Misha was nowhere to be found. You can read the details of that blog entry by clicking on the link above.
If it had not been for Max getting an eye infection one day (which went away the very next day), my getting the eye infection the same day that Max’s infection went away (which also went away a day later) - I would have never gone to the eye doctor and listened to a great experience that my eye doctor had with St. Francis, nor would have learned the importance of praying to St. Francis if you’ve lost a pet. Max was a messenger of St. Francis - and I believe God acted through Max’s eyes and then my own, to help me learn about the value of prayer and St. Francis.
The night I learned about St. Francis, and began to pray along with others who prayed to him on behalf of Misha - Misha came home. He is still with me today, over two years later. He is a very, very loyal cat and has suffered much to be with me everyday. He has outlived ten days in severe winter weather without water or food, frostbite, near kidney failure a year ago, and now pancreatitis. Yet every day he runs to jump onto my pillows and sit in my lap, and he sleeps beside me every night. I owe Max and St. Francis for the joy I have today with Misha.
If you read the Wiki entry above, it makes some reference to St. Francis suffering from an eye infection in his last days. Further investigation shows some relationship to St. Clare of Assisi, who miraculously was able to see at one point in time, and yet another entry referencing St. Clare as one of the three fertility saints introduced in the Philippines.
Isn’t this bizarre - is there a spiritual link between fertility, the environment and animals? St. Francis was the saint of animals, birds and the environment (the latter of which I did not know). St. Clare is the oldest patron saint of Obando, and was very loyal to St. Francis. There are numerous Catholic references to the Patron of Poor Sight and St. Clare, but I don’t yet see any specific reference to what was wrong with her eyes.
My mom taught me love for rescuing cats at an early age. If it were not for her, I would probably not have this much compassion for a stray cat. All of us kids have grown up with an affection for animals - typically having multiple pets in our lives - across multiple species (rabbits, dogs, fish, cats, and yes, even a ferret or two).
From early childhood, there was biblical reference to cats. Martha and Moses, our first cats, came to our family at the age of 5, after a “frog-choker” of a rain storm. They were found underneath a bush, with a cat that Mom called Salomi (unsure of spelling) - and then Moses and Martha were named after what was believed to be Salomi’s children I think. We soon learned that Martha, Moses’ sister, was not in fact supposed to be named Martha, but Miriam. But Martha - well, she just looked like a “martha”. Kinda flaky but what a loving, loving cat of 17 years.
I put Martha to sleep when she was 17 years old, after a year or two of health issues. I dealt with that horrible anguish by going straight to the animal shelter so I could rescue another cat, determined to get two. That is the only time my Mom has ever lied for me, that I’m aware of, so that I could take those cats home to my apartment that very weekend and not have to wait for landlord approval on Monday morning. Misha, a six week old kitten, picked me out as I walked by, and was adopted along with his brother Max that very weekend. 34 years of cat rescue has brought me the love of two sets of animals - not bad, right? Martha (and Moses for 11 or so?) for 17 years, and Max and Misha for 17 - a total of 34 years and two generations of cats. Not bad at all. And Misha continues to survive.
Back to St. Francis and Max - Perhaps there was more of a connection of St. Francis acting through Max’s eyes than I ever knew? The eye infection miraculously appearing and disappearing, then my getting it - just enough to send me to my eye doctor for a message beyond a dose of medicine, which was Pray to St. Francis. So I did - and ever since then I’ve been praying to St. Francis whenever my cats or dogs are sick or missing, or whenever any cat sign goes up saying, “Lost Cat”. Interesting to note that both my mom and I suffer from poor eye sight. In fact all of us do, except my Dad. I never knew the connection between St. Francis and eye sight however.
Most importantly, I thank God and St. Francis for my pets and the love my pets have given me over the years. I’m newly fascinated by the latest readings on St. Francis, which has led me to learn about his eye disease in part, and then St. Clare - also with eye disease. Both lived humble lives (uh - oh that might be difficult). St. Francis revered animals, birds and the environment - and if you’ve followed my blog entries - you’ll see I’ve rescued cats, dogs and even robins during last year’s winter in Columbus, and talked about the importance of the environment. The three leadings topics on this blog are environment, animals and most recently I’ve unearthed the topic of fertility, which is something I’m just beginning to blog about all though I’ve struggled with this issue for many years, perhaps dating back to when I was 21. These three topics are really the core of my being, beyond the day to day life I lead.
Perhaps Max’s death is to bring me another message. As I dreaded his impending expiration date on 1/31/08, and reflected on Max as representing my spiritual messenger late in his life, and dreaded his passing into the spiritual world, I wondered what animal would act as my spiritual messenger now? I pondered Lucky - the new rescue dog - as she has a very keen sense of sight and smell. I wondered if she would shed light on something wise for me. But as I picked Lucky up at the vet tonight, the vet tech and I both agreed that Lucky has not yet likely reached the spiritual realm of the world. We’re not quite sure what world Lucky is in - but is indeed a very happy, seemingly oblivious one in general.
One postscript on Lucky - I had a wierd feeling about her spay today - perhaps because of Max’s passing last week. It turns out that Lucky was anesthetized today, administered pain meds, only to find out right before they opened her up that she had a tiny spay scar and in fact had been spayed after all. So, Lucky was saved from being opened up today. May mean nothing, but who knows?
In order to receive a message, we must be willing to listen and to quiet ourselves enough to listen, and of course, we must be open to the message and its meaning. That part is the hardest, isn’t it, and often the most difficult part to interpret.
Pictures of the 4-Legged Kids on Flickr
2nd February 2008
I Miss Max Tonight
I went to Schoedingers at 11 a.m. this morning to witness the crematorium of my sweet little Maxim. If you think I’m crazy, I’ll share with you the reasons I did it at the bottom of this entry. They were very respectful at the crematorium. I was able to watch them as they clipped his hair for me, and took his pawprint. Max still looked so peaceful. I didn’t cry that much, just a few tears as I think I’m about cried out by now. They explained the process and I chose to push the button.
I came back at 3:30 to pick him up in the urn. I picked out a square wooden urn with a photo of Max in front. I had an appointment at Easton and knew I’d have to keep Max in the car for three hours or so. Max never liked the car as he got older, and noticeably became very very sick whenever we had to go to the vet. I hoped he would forgive me. Otherwise, I felt very peaceful with the entire process and believed I had given Max everything that I possibly could in both death and life.
But now I’m home, and I really miss him tonight. I go into the kitchen with little purpose now. There is no cat getting in my way in the kitchen, waiting for three or four cans of food to be wasted on him in order to try to get him to eat. It became an increasing struggle to figure out what Max wanted to eat. We’d start out with Wellness Food, then home baked chicken, then roasted turkey from Whole Foods, then tuna fish, then a sip of milk - anything to get him to eat. I’d open so much food in the process, that by the time we figured out what Max wanted to eat, my kitchen and fridge began to look like a crazy cat lady’s dwelling. I talked with my vet and my pet sitter about it - and they said it was just really important to get him to eat since he’s hyperthyroid. So, two years of this stuff, and I feel a void of being the caregiver to an ailing cat. I feel like there is nothing to do.
Max on January 31, 2008I’ve also noticed that the water and litter boxes don’t need re-filling as often. I never knew which cat was drinking so much water, but it was apparently Max. I thought all along it was Misha but it was clearly Max drinking loads of water. Who knows how much pain he was really in?
Misha and Monroe on the other hand - they just need dry food in the dish with some occasional wet food to taste. Misha needs the faucet running and chases me wherever I go - he’s got pancreatitis and so gets dehydrated a lot. But he’s been hanging in there for quite some time now - a year since he was officially diagnosed with it. What happens when Misha is gone and I don’t have a cat chasing the water in the sink? Those things that typically challenge you at times - you end of missing them terribly when they’re gone.
Misha is being relatively antisocial since Max passed Thursday. He pretty much wants to stay in that room and not leave it other than to drink, eat and use the bathroom. But I’ve seen him run upstairs with greater energy than in quite some time. I’ve noticed the same with Cody - more energy than in quite some time. In fact, she’s almost running on her walks the last couple of days. I’ve gotten a bit of kick about that - because I’ve wondered if she’s saying - “Better not put me down like that - really, I’m fine, I’m fine.”
Lucky - well she got pretty sick overnight but seems to be fine tonight.
But Max - even though his after-life physical presence is back here tonight in his wooden urn - he’s sorely missed in the real form . Here’s an old photo from 2003 or 2004 when Max was in perfect health, and had quite the healthy belly which loved to be rubbed. It’s pretty amazing that he was so healthy just four years ago at the age of 13.
Max in the good days - likely Summer 2004 - this is when food served its purposePS: I chose to cremate and witness his cremation due to two events - I handed over Martha, the first orange and white tabby cat I ever had, 17 years ago to a vet to have Martha put down. I never forgot the look on Martha’s face as the vet took her away. That exact same vet (Alexia Wilde) was later investigated for euthanizing cats and not putting them down all the way along with several other animal abuse charges. Several cats were found on the garbage heap not completely dead - it was horrible - she lost her vet license. I wondered about Martha and how she might have been treated in her final moments. Thus the reason for committing to never hand over the cat again. Second, I once read an article about animals and people’s bones not being “respected” in the crematorium - that they could get mixed up, or worse yet, the bones could be sold for a fee. Thus the reason for what I did. I wanted to be sure I witnessed Max from the moment he passed from the physical world, into the spiritual world and to ensure his body was respected every inch of the way. I am very glad I did what I did.
Misha & Monroe Coping with Max’s Death
I fretted for months about how Misha would cope with Max’s death. I knew that I would have a vet come here. I knew I would have Max cremated and keep his ashes. But what I worried about were my other animals and how they would handle Max’s death, especially knowing I was doing this at home. What’s interesting is that Misha and Monroe crowded around Max in his last 24 hours, despite the fact that Max was feeling relatively well the last few days before he died. Well, at least, to the best of my knowledge he was okay. He was not eating much, but he was active, social, and in search of comfort all the time. His search for comfort told me Max was in pain most of the time. But he usually greeted me at the door regardless of how he felt, 90% of the time.
I told Misha that his brother would go away in the near future. Misha always looks like he knows exactly what I’m saying. I didn’t think Monroe would be too affected, but I was concerned about him being in the same room with Max when his life passed into the spiritual world. Yet, it was clear yesterday that Monroe and Misha wanted to be with Max in his final hour. They came up to my room and stayed near Max. So I decided that it was meant to be - that they should be present when the vet came and transitioned Max into the next world.
So how have they reacted? Monroe was the sweetest - he said goodbye in the sweetest way. I blogged about this yesterday, if you see the “he’s gone” entry. Oddly, last night Monroe did not sleep at all. He kept me up for a good part of the night, and then I began to cry again.
But Misha today - seems remiss. I wonder if my crying combined with having seen Max yesterday afterwards, has affected Misha. I have a picture posted of Max in my room, and would you believe that Misha has stayed in my room all day, with his body pointed in the direction of the photo nearby? Coincidence, I’m sure. But Misha seems very sad today.
The dogs have adjusted - well Lucky never needed to adjust - but Cody said her goodbye as well yesterday. Today she seems to be pretty good.
Tomorrow, at 11 a.m., I go to Schoedinger to have Max cremated. They will let me witness him being cremated so I can ensure his body is treated with respect. Apparently some funeral homes will combine animals and you only get “community” ashes. Dreadful, eh? But Schoedinger cremates one pet at a time, and enables you to witness everything if so desired, and feel safe that your precious pet is being treated with the utmost respect.
Since Max and Misha have both been very Catholic cats and have inspired and taught me many spiritual messages, which I plan to blog about this weekend, I believe that Max will pass into the spiritual world.
I believe wholeheartedly in St. Francis, thanks to Max, and know that his spirit will pass on to help others. I wanted his spirit to release in my room where we all sleep. As I’m writing this and researching animal spirits, Misha just woke up and smelled something. He lifted his head. I just smelled it too. I am overwhelmed with emotion. Just when it seems my body is incapable of crying more, the dams open up and sobbing deep within occurs.
Yesterday a woman talked with me on the phone and mentioned a snow leopard. Today, my shiatsu practitioner, during a shiatsu session worked on me and mentioned a snow leopard. I was struck at how odd it was that two women in 24 hours would mention an animal to me that is rarely referenced by anyone. I had planned to blog this weekend about how I feel a loss of my Messenger, as Max was truly a Messenger of St. Francis. You have to read the animal totem below about the snow leopard. I genuinely feel that Max in his spiritual world will lead me to a message.
I have talked a lot recently about feeling like my home was out of balance as three of my older animals have been sick for the past year and a half. The snow leopard reference in the past 24 hours is quite interesting now that I am learning more. See notes below.
Here are some online resources on the topic of animals passing on, and reaching into the spiritual world.
About.com’s Discussion of Religious Quotes On Animals, Dying and Spirits
A Great Cat Ghost Story That Will Surely Give You Goosebumps
Snow Leopards - Animal Totem Dedication to A Sign Sent to Me Today
More on Snow Leopards - the Soul That Moves Effortlessly Between the Physical & Spiritual World
Snow Leopards by Peter Mathiessen
NYT Book Review on Samsara Dog & Reference to Snow Leopard
1st February 2008
Along Came Monroe, The Tuxedo Kitten
Along came Monroe, Mr Tuxedo Cat
Part Two of Ode to Fat Cat Max (whom I had to have put down yesterday)
Max felt his life was pretty good until this little stinker tuxedo kitten came into his life. He had all the food he could eat, he could sit in his favorite chair, he could play and bask in the sun - and have free roam of the house. But then one day, a kitten came to stay. His name was Monroe. It seemed that the dog Cody had a thing for the little kitten, and in fact had found the little kitten stranded underneath a truck and sensed it needed help. His owner had brought other kittens in before, but they never stayed. Max had a feeling that this little kitten was going to stay.
Max had to share his food with the little stinker. This was not good. The little black and white thing had an affection for food, much like Max did. Also not good. One day little Monroe discovered Cody’s dog food - he had never seen so much food in his entire life. He could probably sleep and eat and hang out in this special place all day long.
Max, who was always the fearless cat, refused to let any stray animal get in his way. While Misha was one to jump up and perch, Max would walk up and look straight at any stray animal, dogs included. Max was not one to share his territory or let another get in his way. So when little Monroe thought it was play time in Max’s territory and began to attack Max, Max refused to get off the bed. After all, Max was much bigger than little skinny kitty Monroe.
The biggest problem that Max had with Monroe - his owner thought that Monroe was super cute! Apparently so did the big furry dog. They really loved one another. Max was personally a little disgusted by the little furry kitten.
The only thing Max liked about the little kitten, well, it was simply smaller than Max so it couldn’t quite eat all the food Max needed.
Tomorrow, Maxim will be cremated. I am picking up his ashes at Schoedinger’s Pet Services. I’ll tell the stories of Max the Messenger of St. Francis tomorrow.
