I apologise now, and warn you that this is a grief stricken post. Yesterday at 14.14, my Gizmo died in my arms. He died of cardiac myopathy, which came on very sudden and took him in what felt like an instant. He was 3 years old. I have been repeatedly assured by friends, family and the vet that there was nothing I could do, nothing I could have done, and that he was clearly very deeply loved through his short life. These words are small comfort when you have a dependant that needs you for their survival. I will undoubtedly continue to think of as many ways that I could have saved him, or at least delayed the inevitable. My gorgeous boy had a heart murmur and suffered from stress. He went through bouts of separation anxiety, bladder stress, and only ever seemed to be truly calm and happy when he was in my arms, or next to me.
I am sharing this really difficult time with whoever reads this. And of course as always, to impart a message and lesson that I have taken from this tragic day. One of the things I was advised to do was to stay with him as long as I could. As he was leaving this Earth, I wrapped him up in a white blanket and cuddled him. I continued to cuddle him, whisper to him, stroke him, and alternated with laying next to him, talking softly to him, sleeping next to him, up until I felt I could take him to the vets on his last journey, 21 hours later. This was insanely difficult, but this really helped me. Rather than him being ripped away from me when I was most vulnerable, I got to spend hours with him, loving him as his spirit departed this world. I got to witness his passing in full, ingraining within me that he really was gone. I think when they leave you quickly, you are left in disbelief. But here, each time I looked into his increasingly glassy eyes, I could see, my Gizmo was no longer there. I felt him become a shell. I didn’t move towards the vets until I was ready. For 21 hours he stayed as close to my heart as possible.
I am now home, and left with the new food that I got him that he fell in love with. A total of eight reindeer feather toys that he went crazy for. Once I discovered that he finally had found a toy he liked, I went out and bought eight more so he would always have a new one. His annual medication is being shipped to me as I write. The place where he loved to sleep is empty. It’s like he moved out and forgot to pack some of his things. Including me 🙁
I am heartbroken. I wish so much that I’d had one more day with him, where I could spoil him far more than he already was. One more night of cuddling. One more night of him sharing my bed. One more morning of him drinking my bath water (as I laid in the bath). One more time of him leading me to the cupboard because he wanted some tinned food. If I had known that his last night here was his last night, I would have never let him go. I implore you, spend time with your loved ones. You don’t know which night will be your last <3