My Little Boy (Pet Bereavement)

Member Name: samantha

Product:	Pet Bereavement
Date:	23/10/01 (81 review reads)
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When I found Poppy lurking in the back garden and enticed her into the house I was sure my boyfriend would not let me keep her. With his allergies and the new relationship we had just began it would be next to impossible but when she snuggled up to him on the bed he couldn’t say no.

After a week of good food and plenty of love Poppy bloomed. Unfortunately for a cat that was well under a year old (the vet estimated about 7 months) she was quite pregnant.

We considered a termination as she was so drastically underweight but the vet was unsure how far along she was, so we decided the best idea would be to try our best and cross fingers for her and her kittens.

A cat has never eaten so much and she soon began to look normal and very heavily pregnant.

The night she delivered my boyfriend was working in London and could not come back so I spent 5 hours sitting with Poppy whilst she gave birth to three beautiful kittens, Nermal, Mouse and Digby. Nermal was the big black cat that you can imagine fought his way to make sure he came out first. Mouse the little girl and Digby my little stripy boy.

The kittens progressed well and Poppy looked after them until they could fend for themselves with our help.

I can’t describe how this felt. Then at 20 I knew I never wanted children, these were my babies as much as they were Poppys. I did everything for them, they have never and still do not want for anything. I work at home as much as I can to stay with them, they have the best care money can buy. The most expensive collars, electronic cat flap and more love than they know what to do with. I even look at booties in Asda and wonder if they would fit them (not that I do that too them). But this is the background to how I feel about my cats.

When the kittens got to a year old it was clear that Mouse and Nermal were far bigger than Digby. Digby suffered from diarrhoea and was occasionally sick and we took him to
the vets time and time again. We bought him special food, wrote to magazines for advice and I spent the majority of my time sitting with him. He was cheery still and played ball, loved a tickle, but tired very quickly.

We went away for a week on holiday and my friend stayed with the cats to look after them. I rang every night and she said Digby had been being sick.

When we came home he was very ill.

We took him to the vets who now agreed to perform investigative surgery. They found that his intestines had ripped. He thought this might be a congenital defect, he’d had it since he was a kitten. When we received the phone call the vet explained that the surgery may not be successful but he was prepared to try. We told him that if it were the only way to save him then it would have to be done.

We sat and cried for the two hours of the surgery. The vet rang to say he had come through it and would have to be kept in under observation.

We went in to see him as soon as we were allowed and I will never forget how poorly he looked. The vet did not expect him to make it but to his surprise after three days he seemed well enough to come home.

I washed his favourite blankets and told poppy, nermal and mouse that he was coming home. I set up a bed in the spare room so I could sleep with him somewhere quiet and out of the way of everyone else. We settled down and he wanted to sleep on the bed so I gave him a kiss and a cuddle but couldn’t sleep for worry.

About 1 in the morning Digby started moaning and dragging himself around backwards. His breathing steadily got worse and he died about an hour later. I tried to tell him how much I loved him as he died but I was so frightened I had to go in the other room and leave him with my boyfriend. The vet said he was too week and his lungs had filled up with water. I had sat and watched him drown.

I have never recovered from the death of my little stripy
boy. He never even lived to two years old. For months, and still now, when the sun comes out I think how much he loved to lay in the sun, how much he loved to eat tuna and the spot he used to sleep on in the corner of the bed.

We buried him in his favourite blanket and with his toy mouse in my mum’s garden. It took me a year to go back into the garden.

I don’t want to upset anyone I just want people to understand how much some people love their ‘pets’. These are not my pets, they are my kiddies and I love them just as much as could ever love a child. I miss Digby every day.

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