This is a Post I hoped Never To Write

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

Helena of Troy Hoyt, Jan. 2023, Jun 2023.

Helena died in her sleep last night, before we could get home to cuddle her once more. The doctor still has no idea why, and I’ve authorized an autopsy, to spare someone else this heartbreak; to maybe save another kitten.

I shouldn’t have had her spayed so young; I shouldn’t have boarded her; I shouldn’t have removed her from my shoulder when she was happy and purring; I shouldn’t have moved her from her patch of sunlight when she was sleeping, just so we could go outside.

I have toys and treats I was saving for when we got back home, so we could celebrate getting her back. We bought her a brand new carrier she only got to use in that last trip.

Indy will be alone now, poor thing.

I didn’t deserve her. And she has left, to be petted by angels where the sun never sets.

127 thoughts on “This is a Post I hoped Never To Write”

    1. Sarah, so sorry for your loss. I need to send you a story that has been known to help, but am still on the road. It will have to wait because only the paid version is online. I won’t be home until the fifth. It’s called Simba’s story, and my wife wrote it to work through her grief over one of ours who died too young.

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  5. Oh no! I was hoping she’d pull through. Terrible news to come home to, Sarah. You loved her as much as you could. I hope they’re able to find something.

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  6. I am so sorry to hear this. I know we were all praying for a miracle. It’s so hard to offer words of comfort, but even though her life was way too short, it was full of love. She knew she was loved, and she will always be loved.

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  8. Be sad that shee died… but don’t let that morph into blaming yourself, This sounds like a one-in-a million occurrence, there is no way you could have anticipated this, not your fault . I am sorry to hear about this, I just lost my Pit Bull and it hurts.

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    1. THIS!

      We always blame ourselves when a pet dies; all I can say is PLEASE DON’T!

      It wasn’t your fault, and there was almost certainly nothing at all you could have done to prevent it. Take time to grieve; we’ll be here when you feel up to coming back.

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    2. THIS! And you’ve made the selfless choice to allow an autopsy, in the hope of sparing others.

      You’ve done the right thing, which can only help your pain a little. The bond between humans and our social animals is mysterious. It reminds us that we are both animal and spirit, more (as C.S.Lewis put it) than animal–but not less.
      Understanding what they cannot, we feel it for them. Somehow, the limitations of our bond with them makes the bond, and the bonded, more precious.

      And we have not yet begun to speak of Dan. My condolences to both of you, and comfort to your other kitties, who will surely miss their companion, at least for a little while.

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  15. Oh Sarah, I’m so sorry.

    I know it’s hard, but please don’t torture yourself with “what-ifs.” All we can do is make the best call we can with what we know at the time.

    Helena knew she was loved and is missed.

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  16. Very sorry for your loss. Please don’t blame yourself; it sounds like you did everything humanly possible to look after her and your other cats.

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  17. I’m sorry for your loss, and doubly so that you weren’t there with her at the end.

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  18. I’m sorry. But remember, if you’d left them at home you would have found her, and then you’d be blaming yourself for leaving them alone. All you can do is the best you can do, and you did that. You do deserve the love of kitties (I’m not sure about me, but I am sure about you.)
    Meanwhile, our current team is praying for your comfort. God bless.

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    1. So perfect – I’ve always loved that story, but never knew the background!

      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Door_into_Summer

      The idea for the novel came from an incident outlined by Heinlein later:

      When we were living in Colorado there was snowfall. Our cat—I’m a cat man—wanted to get out of the house so I opened a door for him but he wouldn’t leave. Just kept on crying. He’d seen snow before and I couldn’t understand it. I kept opening other doors for him and he still wouldn’t leave. Then Ginny said, “Oh, he’s looking for a door into summer.” I threw up my hands, told her not to say another word, and wrote the novel The Door into Summer in 13 days.

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  20. I’m so sorry.

    “The few hours that we had together, we loved a lifetime’s worth.” — Sarah Connor, The Terminator. (I do not apologize for weeping every time I see that scene.)

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  26. I join with others here in telling you: Do not blame yourself for not knowing what you couldn’t have known. Could you have done something different, and prevented this? Possibly. But without knowing what you didn’t know, it’s not reasonable to accept guilt.

    Helena was a happy cat because you gave her a good home. When the unexpected happened, you had good people, professionals, do their best for her. You didn’t give up.

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  28. Oh, I am so, so sorry. But don’t blame yourself–no one could have foreseen it! I lost my kitty Abby, to FLV, at barely more than a year old. I fretted for a long time that I had missed something/done something wrong. But the truth was…she probably had it pretty much from birth (she was from a neighbor’s feral cat colony), and so despite shots and so on, her liver still failed. I still miss her.

    Helena knew you loved her–she still knows it! (And Greebo has a little sister now to play with, as well as Pixel and all the others you have loved.)

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  34. Please, please don’t blame yourself. We always see the what-if’s that work out perfectly and never the what-if’s that work out tragically.

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  35. Grieve, yes, but don’t blame yourself. Death entered the world long ago, and we are all of us still (even though temporarily) under his sway. Helena has just gone to join the mighty pride of cats that will meet you on the other side.

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  37. I’m so sorry for your loss! Don’t blame yourself! You did everything you knew to do. What you didn’t deserve is to lose her.

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  38. A few months ago we had to put down my daughters cat which we had for 17 years, most of my daughters life. It is heart breaking but she was getting sicker and nothing seemed to help. A hole is still there and will be for sometime to come.
    Condolences and take heart in that she is in a better place and no longer in pain.

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    1. Ain’t that the truth.

      I never seem to find the words to acceptably express my sympathy for the loss of a beloved pet. All I can offer is what Sarah already knows: The pain eventually fades to a dull background ache.

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  42. I’m so sorry to hear this. You did everything you could. This sounds like one of those “zebra” medical problems; hopefully the autopsy will provide useful information, as you said. My condolences.

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  43. We always blame ourselves for things we can’t control, you did everything you could. More than a lot of people would. Thoughts and prayers.

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  45. Echoing the sentiments of don’t blame yourself. It sounds like you did everything you reasonably could and even some things you unreasonably could. Much sympathy for you at this time.

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  47. Our sympathies and condolences.

    We cannot re-litigate the past – dwell not on what you would do differently if you but knew. You did your best based on the available knowledge. Now you know more, but you didn’t know it then.

    “The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
    Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
    Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
    Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”

    ~
    Rgrds,
    RES

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  49. So sorry for your loss. I will pray for you. 

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  52. Little Helena cat sat on your shoulder and purred. She ran and played with her brother as a kitten should. She slept in patches of sunshine and was awoken by her very own loving humans. When her humans had to be absent, they left her and her feline friends in the safest place they could find. When she fell ill, her humans ensured that she was cared for by experts and rushed home to see her. They loved her and blessed her life as she blessed theirs.

    (Dammit, now I’m crying. At work.) Sending a hug your way.

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  53. You do the best you can, with what you have, then mourn, then gather around those who survive and carry-on for their sake.

    The living need us. The dead do not.

    Praying for you and yours. Please hug the kitties for me.

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  54. I’m so sorry to hear this. You and Dan have my condolences, and the comfort of knowing that you gave her a happy life even if it was way too short. And as others have said, don’t beat yourself up for what might have been. She was already at the vet’s when she fell ill – you couldn’t have done anything to change things. Hugs to you both.

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  55. I’m sorry for your loss. It never gets easier. The only hope I can give you is that she will be waiting to see you on the other side. RIP little one.

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  56. Sarah, I am so so sorry. It is never easy to lose a pet, however long they have lived. She will be waiting for you at the Rainbow Bridge. Don’t torture yourself with “Coulda, woulda, shoulda.” Helena knew she was loved.

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  59. Sarah, you did nothing wrong and everything right. You loved her. You opened your heart and your home to her. I know it is hard right now. You need to grieve. But do not blame yourself for this, for you did nothing wrong.

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  61. O Bubastis, Goddess of the Nile, pray keep watch for the arrival of a little golden tabby cat named Helena, who never scratched or bit without just cause, who was much loved by her people, Sarah and Dan, and who returned that love in full measure. Guide her forthwith to the Eternal Catnip Fields, wherein she may enjoy a well-deserved rest.

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  62. I’m sorry for you. We had some of the same what-ifs when our Angie got painfully hurt and the injury turned out to be non-fixable. All our departed furry offspring are in a better place, and will be waiting for us on the other side.

    Hugs

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  63. Dear Hostess, I am saddened to hear this. These creatures somehow work their way into our lives in fashions that would not be expected and they truly are family. My condolences and please don’t beat yourself up over this.

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  64. I’m very sorry, Sarah.

    You were worried that you might face the choice of putting her down, and were glad that her caretakers were not swift in offering you that choice. Now that cup has passed from you. Take comfort in that, and from all the condolences that a lot of friends have given you here.

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  65. Please don’t blame yourself for Helena, Sarah. It’s so easy to second-guess. Lord knows I was sitting on our back steps a week ago last Saturday crying my eyes out apologizing to our dog Bator as he struggled to his feet with his hind legs going out, which ended up with him crossing the bridge on Monday evening. That little fluffball had such a great, if short, life with you and Dan, cuddling, sleeping, snuggling, and helping you proofread. (Maybe not that last part.) You did everything you could do.

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  67. I am so very sorry for your loss. May she play in sunny fields, chasing celestial mice, forever.

    Maybe she can play with my dear, departed, furry boys.

    I wish you solace. You gave her a safe, happy home. That is something to be happy for, on her behalf.

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  72. Our condolences on the death of your fur-baby. Hugs to you and all your family.
    Grieve, but don’t blame yourself.
    You don’t have the authority or power to stop death, so you are not responsible for it coming.
    You loved deeply, and did all that was possible to save your kitty.
    Blessed be.
    John in Indy

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  74. OMG, so very sorry. Lost our Dachshund not so long ago so I know the feeling. It was months ago but sometimes feels like days or hours.

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  75. I’m so sorry.

    It feels like I should say more then that, but nothing I’ve come up with is helpful.
    (Trite, yes. Scatalogical, occasionally. Helpful, no.)

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  76. Sarah, Dan, and Indy. So sorry for your loss of this beautiful baby girl. May she rest while waiting for you (a long time from now) at the Rainbow Bridge. Helena is loved. She knows. (My first reaction is denial “No! Oh No!”)

    I get your grief. The if onlys haunt you now. Don’t let them. Please don’t let them. Easier said than done. I know. If only we’d never let Thump roam. Never mind he came home every time we called. Even though he was never out long. We never learned what he got into. If he got into anything. We just know his kidneys failed quickly. If only we’d caught the condition in time even when vet assures us that was impossible, I am sure the vet is wrong. I can go on and on. We fought for him for a month. We had to let him go just as he turned 5 years. This was three years ago. It still hurts. We will miss him forever. Losing them is the price we pay. I’d rather lose them after they’ve been with us for 15 – 20 years. But even too young I am not sorry I’ve had any in my life.

    When you are ready please in Helena’s name get another kitten. She’d want you to. Won’t replace her. Nothing will. But the love helps heal and expands your love.

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  77. It sucks. There’s nothing I can say that will change that. Did I take her to the vet early enough?..did I not notice symptoms?….did I not hold her enough or give her the right foods? Every pet owner has gone through this list and you didn’t do anything wrong. It just sucks and it hurts and you want to scream at God and demand WHY!! So sorry for you and yours and the short life of this little furball who has taken a piece of your heart.

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    1. 100% correct.

      The only time I don’t go through the list, and more, you cite, is when the pets have lived a long life for their species. I regret losing an “elderly” cat at 15 or even 16 when I know cats can live to be 18 to 22; even then I can *rationalize. I still grieve. I know we gave them a good long life.

      (*) These two were bottle fed, one barely knowing his mother and the nutrients of real cat milk. This one was 3 months and skin and bones when we finally caught him. So skinny we thought he was a she until he got some weight on him. He died 4 years before his brother caught almost two months before him. On and on.

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  79. Always there is the self-doubt: did I do all I could? Be assured, Good Lady, that your love for your babies shines through in all you say and do. We know you did everything humanly possible. I’m sending you love and prayers so that you feel it in your own heart! 💕

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  80. To Grieve
    I wept with Mary
    with her brother dead.
    She offered her grief
    as a gift to Me.

    I know your grief.
    My stepfather dead
    before I reached thirty.
    Mother was young widow.

    When you follow Me
    I don’t promise simple.
    Paul had his thorn.
    You have your grief.

    The stronger the grief
    the greater the Love.
    To lose one you love
    is painful tis true.

    Suffering is important
    part of your life.
    A refiners fire
    to reveal My love.

    I suffered like you.
    I shared your pain.
    I am not a distant God
    immune to pain & grief.

    Like a loving parent who
    cradles bleeding child
    I long to comfort you
    and weep with you.

    Bring your grief to Me
    like Mary, as a gift.
    Let Me bear your burden
    of pain and grief.
    (c) Presbypoet, 12-13-15.

    I heard/wrote that poem. Two years later my son was diagnosed with cancer that would kill. I offered my grief to God as a gift when my son was diagnosed. His 6 month journey to death was full of divine appointments. I did not walk that path alone. This poem was a gift from God, I share it with those who grieve.

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  82. Sarah, my heartfelt condolences to you and Dan both for your loss. I agree with others here – do not blame yourselves. Let yourself grieve but without guilt. Comfort each other, and Indy, who has lost his sister and playmate. And perhaps, some day, you will write Helena into a book or a story, and remember the bright joy of life she brought to you.

    I really need to dust in here,

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  83. Crap. I know you did everything you could, and would have done more if there had been a way, as we all have. All I can offer is sympathy and tears, thinking about my lost ones.

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  86. So sorry, Sarah. Know that you did your best, and maybe the autopsy will save other kitties!

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  88. I may, or may not, have more words later; I’m writing this through tears and petting Artemis who know that I’m upset. I fell in long distance love with her at first sight, so I am grieving some small part of yours right now.

    For now, know this: It is NOTHING that you did – or did not – do. A friend once told me that each of us, whether human or companion, has a backpack that we take to Heaven, filled with the love that we gathered over our lives. Helena’s backpack was filled to overflowing just in her brief allotted time.

    Crying again. Take care, Sarah.

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  89. She died in her sleep without suffering which is a great blessing denied to many. She had a full life full of kitty love and kitty joy.

    She didn’t know she was only six months old, just that her work here was done and it was time to move farther up and farther in. Someday you will find her basking in her favorite sunbeam and asking, “What took you so long? Now give me pets!”

    Oh what a day THAT will be!

    Prayers up for you as you morn your dear one.

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  90. No one could have loved her more. No one at all. She was blessed to have you and she’ll let you know that when you meet again.

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  94. So sorry to hear this news — but please don’t beat yourself up with guilt. Cats are extremely stoic and hide their pain, to the point even veterinarians often miss the early signs.

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  98. Pingback: Werkin’ not ded | Dio's Workshop

  100. All pets leave us too soon, but some leave us too young. I’m so sorry Helena left you all so young, but you gave her love and happiness in her short life. Hugs

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  103. I’m so sorry. :(
    I can still clearly remember when my last cats (Drac and Loki) died some 20-some years ago.
    Lost a chicken tonight.
    My baby (~1.25y) dog (F1 Weimaraner/GSP) is getting spayed tomorrow (now that she’s had her first heat). I’m sad that she’ll never have puppies. (Sadness likely exacerbated by the chicken loss discovered a few hours ago.)
    Much love from a random person on the internet. @.@

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  104. I’m so sorry for your loss. It always hurts to part ways with family members, especially so unexpectedly.

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  105. Ohhhhh. :( She was so much sweeter peas. I can just tell by her pic. Just a lovey little kitty. I’m so sorry…that’s heartbreaking. Big condolences

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  106. I am very sorry to hear of Helena’s passing. I know you were very concerned.

    Life is a funny thing — sometimes, the frail will survive tremendous abuse; and sometimes the seemingly hearty will not make it through a night. This is the way of the world.

    I hope that the autopsy brings you knowledge and closure……but you must live and love regardless. This is the way of the world, to bravely live and love in the face of the unknown.

    And here, in the cold bits and bytes, you have all these friends-in-a-box who are bravely sending their love and support — not knowing if it can help, but willing to try.

    Finally, we have words from RAH — “Dum Vivimus, Vivamus!”

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  109. The price of love is loss. Ever has it been, and what fool would cheapen their willingly given care by exchanging it for a heart of stone? Honest grief is a bitter pill to take. But take it we must, to honor the lost.

    A better man than I would be thankful for the days spent with worthy companions, friends, and family. Would strive to live a better, more honorable life in respect of their memory, rather than cursing the loss.

    But such things are not easily done.

    May you and yours bear up under the weight of her passing. May you come to recognize grace and joy when they find you, as I trust they soon will. May you all be blessed with the strength that comes from love and loss. And may you spoil the other little fuzzies rotten, and they you.

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  110. Her life was short and happy, with a brief sad part at the end that she seems to have slept through.

    Could have been worse, could have been better. Not your fault.

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  113. I am so sorry for your loss of sweet Helena. It’s always heartbreaking to lose a pet, doubly so for one so young. And please, do not beat yourself up about it. You’re a good pet parent, and you did everything for her. She’s not suffering now, having joined all The Cats That Came Before in the afterlife of never ending sunspots, comfy cushions and the always full kibble bowl.

    And Indy Cat, poor Indy, he will miss her too. Give him all the love and belly rubs he wants and needs. And while this may seem too soon, consider getting him a companion so he’s not lonely. Contrary to what so many people who aren’t cat people think, cats are sociable animals.

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  114. I’m sorry, Sarah. She didn’t deserve it. Neither did you.

    Over the years, we have lost two kittens to FIP. There was nothing we could do about it. But they still haunt me.

    Earlier this month, I accidentally killed my favorite farm cat with a piece of farm equipment. She was sleeping in tall grass and didn’t hear me, nor did I see her. That one will haunt me every day forever. We didn’t want her brother to be alone so we got a new kitten three days later. It is taking some time for him to accept her, but eventually they will be best friends. Don’t let your surviving cat be alone.

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  115. All pets go to Heaven, because that’s where they came from.

    Deepest condolences; may her memory bless your lives, until you meet again.

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  116. So sorry to hear… and more than a bit surprised. But times like these remind us that even the littlest and four-legged ones have their own lives and their own individual Fate; and it does not always fall to us others who love them to order or ordain those things.

    Even try as we can with all our might (and others’ medicine and prayers and all manner of other blessings). The mystery involved seems to share much with those old familar words, “Let not my will but Thy will be done.” (And it is a mystery, truly, as anyone who’s let a long-beloved friend rest her head on your hand as she takes her first brave steps walking into a wider new world can attest.) Surely no one could’ve been more loved or better cared-for.

    And perhaps even now, there is another friend-to-be, waiting (Greebo-like?) to meet you (and Dan and everyone) when the time is right, and say (as one truly huge-hearted little blue cat once said to us), “You can pet me now, I’m your new cat. No, really, I can prove it!” — who knows? I sure don’t; but it’s seldom if ever that any of us do, beforehand.

    The mysteries of fate are indeed… mysterious.

    What is it these little sand cats see in us, these fierce and loving predators, what do any of us humans have to give back, that they’re so willing to go to such lengths sometimes, to be at long last able to sum up a whole life of theirs, as…

    “Well-beloved cat.”

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