Hello, my name is Myriam. I’m visiting this supportive forum because I’m devastated with grief. On 16 April at 4:18 am, the love of my life passed away. My baby was called Piffo; he was my whole life, my happiness, my love. He brought me so much love, joy and happiness—a little sweetheart who was always in a good mood. He was my king and will remain so forever. At the end of September, I noticed a little lump that I kept an eye on; it wasn’t getting any bigger. He was playing, running and eating really well, and he slept with me. Perhaps I was in denial because I was so scared for my baby; I thought it was just a lipoma. Months went by and everything was fine until 1 April, when I noticed my darling was constipated and the lump had suddenly grown. So I went to the vet, who gave me the terrible diagnosis. I broke down in tears, devastated by grief. The vet was so cold and lacked empathy, even though he’d been a kind, empathetic vet before. He told me he had between 6 months and a year left. The fibrosarcoma was on my darling's hip, so it wasn't operable. But I wanted a second opinion, so I saw two other vets. The last one was exceptional, with a rare kindness. She gave my baby an enema and told me that it had metastasised to the lungs. I screamed in pain. My Piffo fought until the very end so we could stay together; he waited until my birthday had passed, and during the night he dragged his little paw over and came to die in my arms. I’ve been in a deep depression ever since. He was my whole life and I feel so guilty—did I do everything I could? It’s torturing me. I miss him so much. I’m crying as I write this; I see him everywhere. He would have been 13 on 13 May. My little Piffo was a black cat with golden eyes. He is my son and will be forever. Best wishes, Myriam. I’m in so much pain. Thank you for your help and support.
