Hans has Passed
Those were the words of the emergency vet as my little prince died curled up against my thigh. We brought him in to an emergency vet last night because we thought he was suffering from a urinary block. Testing revealed that tumors that had appeared last year had grown rapidly and were now compressing his intestines and making it difficult to pass stool. Because the largest was on his liver the vet stated the prognosis was not good even if he did operate or start Hans on chemotherapy. Hans's health had been declining steadily for the past two years, he was 18 when he died. It was a terribly hard decision to make, but he was only going to continue to suffer even if his tumors were removed.
I am writing this mainly to process some of the grief I am facing. He was with me for 14 years of my life and at 29 that meant he spent almost half my waking life with me. He came to me as a stray when I was a teenager. It was winter and we fed him and he didn't want to leave. My mother took pity on him and brought him in once the snow began to fall. He stayed in my room and I wonder if he imprinted on me or something because he never wanted to be separated from me. He didn't often leave my room. He went with me to college, to grad school, moved 300 miles with me to a new state, and saw me through some of the best and worst moments of my life.
He was a large, gentle orange cat. For most of his life he was about 14 pounds, he died at 10 pounds. He loved to be picked up and carried around on my shoulders. When I worked from home during COVID he'd occupy my lap or my work laptop all the time. He was so happy when I moved in with my fiance and his three cats, he wasn't alone and had cats that were so nice to him. I knew nothing but love from him. I hope that he felt the same when he went. I held him as long as I could stand it while he was on pain meds and sat him between myself and my fiance when he was euthanized. He went so peacefully and for that I am glad.
I didn't sleep terribly well last night and its hard to eat anything at the moment. I have been crying in spurts since we left the vet. I'll get a call later to receive his ashes in a beautiful cedar box, the color of his fur. Writing this out has certainly helped a lot though. I'll carry his memory with me forever and I have faith that we'll get to see one another in the life beyond this. It'll just be a hard wait.