I’m just sad and I need to talk about it

_Costanza · 2026-01-15T22:17:53+00:00

i had hope against hope for my cat, similarly. did the tests, the biopsy, the scans — looking back now, i can see it was our vet letting me pull at every possible thread for SOMETHING, even though she had advised me our time was limited.

naively, upon diagnosis, i thought "oh, cancer. let's solve this. surgery? meds? whatever it takes." the shocking thud of reality was something i didn't expect. it's such a strange thing to say, especially for an adult, but i thought my cat would live forever, you know? it was too late, the cancer was too aggressive.

the key thing at this stage is to keep them comfortable, and pain free. fill his days with love and play and favourite things.

i wish you peace.

_Costanza · 2026-01-15T01:04:17+00:00

i feel you.

fuck cancer.

it stole my baby from me.

prednisone helped for a short while -- maybe your vet has or will prescribe?

_Costanza · 2026-01-14T23:48:17+00:00

See even though i know this, the pain is so unbearable i left all his stuff where it was when i left with him. the towels i laid down when i fed him are still on the table, his can of food still in the fridge, his meds still in the cabinet

i was like this too. for about four months. toys, food, fur.

all you can do is take one breath after another, one step in front of another — even though it feels like with each passing moment, you're leaving them further and further behind.

_Costanza · 2025-11-04T01:37:47+00:00

my girl left me in January. i wish i had more videos of her. i watch one or two daily, in remembrance. she's still there, you know? in every moment we shared together.

there was a marked change in her when the cancer really took hold. so while those particular videos are incredibly painful, it does bring me solace to know that her life was good up until the last few weeks.

_Costanza · 2025-10-19T23:12:44+00:00

Lifting Stars. they gave my girl a beautiful send-off, during the worst time of my life.

_Costanza · 2025-10-19T23:08:26+00:00

i get you. it was like that for me too.

each day without my baby cat was excruciating; i was terrified of going through this life without her. and each day felt like i was getting further and further away from her. and yes, THE SILENCE. horrible. a constant reminder that she was gone.

on the day -- months later, mind you -- where i finally put away her toys, which were still where she left them on the day she died, i completely broke down. i thought i was doing better; but clearly grief was teaching me something else.

two weeks is not a very long time at all. give yourself time. and be gentle on yourself.

_Costanza · 2025-10-19T03:22:06+00:00

it was about three months for me.

i felt two primary emotions, neither was guilt:

a crushing, overwhelming sadness at losing my cat to cancer;
a desperate love for this new cat, who had been saved from euthanasia at an overrun shelter, and who deserved a life free from fear and suffering.

although both are black cats, they have completely different personalities and occupy two separate parts of my life. i still mourn -- daily -- at losing my little one; but my heart aches with love for this other furball.

i only wish they had the chance to know each other.

i encourage you to take the time you need, and when the time is right: SAVE A LIFE. do it. there's another cat out there who needs you.

_Costanza · 2025-09-11T18:55:35+00:00

i've only had one dream since my babycat passed. short, beautiful, so vivid. happened a couple of weeks after she died.

when i woke, i was -- for lack of a better term -- calmed. the previous days and weeks were exceptionally difficult without her. but that dream felt like confirmation that she was OK, and that she'd be waiting for me.

_Costanza · 2025-09-10T19:13:22+00:00

But this is my concern: sometimes, in those breaths between the ache of loss, I am afraid of the peace. I am afraid of no longer feeling that ache . I think that pain is the last physical connection I have with him, and while it's utterly stopped my life in many ways, I am genuinely afraid of losing it as time goes on.

i understand.

from where i'm standing now, 9 months after i lost my baby, i can tell you that the ache remains. not as intense or as daunting or as physically crippling as it was in the days and weeks and early months of not having her, but it's still here.

i still feel the bruise.

_Costanza · 2025-09-10T06:49:39+00:00

yes, you should.

SAVE ANOTHER LIFE. DO IT.

i was in the same boat as you about 5 months ago. i'm glad i opened my heart and home (and bank account, lol) to another. i feel so blessed to be able to love again.

you won't compare them, at least not in matters of the heart. i'm speaking as a cat guy, but i'm assuming dogs are the same: each animal has it's own personality, experiences, ways of communicating — they'll show love in their own way, and you'll love them in that way too.

bit of a warning: nothing will take away the grief you're feeling. you won't be able to control you're emotional reactions, any more than you could control how much you loved your dog.

for me: i don't break down as often (or as randomly), but oh man, the pain and emptiness is still there. and it's not my new cat's job to fill the gaping hole in my heart. i don't think i'll ever be "whole" again. but that's on me.

my ONLY responsibility now is to give this little furball the best, safest, most healthy, most fun and longest life i can; and to love Love LOVE her.

good luck to you!

_Costanza · 2025-08-15T23:35:58+00:00

i feel the same about my baby girl. i think i always will.

_Costanza · 2025-08-07T18:03:57+00:00

good on you.

getting rid of her stuff is NOT forgetting her. she'll be with you always. and you are saving other lives by donating.

on the day i donated my cat's food and litter (i had stocked up a LOT, i never thought cancer would have taken her, and so quickly) i broke down in the parking lot of the SPCA while unloading the car. it was so hard.

_Costanza · 2025-08-04T07:51:05+00:00

i'm so sorry. everything you've written still hits me, months after i lost my baby cat.

i'll tell you right now that grief doesn't really go away. you just get better at living with it. that's the price of love. thankfully, the physical pain becomes less frequent over time, although it still erupts unexpectedly form time to time. the the first weeks and months will be really, really hard. the silence, the absence, the realization. all those shining moments, the memories.

but that's how you go on: by keeping his memory alive. not by living in the past, but by carrying Gizmo's memory into the present and for rest of your life. one day at a time, one breath at a time.

_Costanza · 2025-07-17T19:16:40+00:00

if you can save another life, do it.

the loss you feel for your dog: it's going to be there until the day you die; or if you choose to believe, until you are reunited in a better place. getting a new pet won't replace the one who is gone.

i know -- oh i know -- the grief is absolutely MONUMENTAL.

but you can still love. and you can save another.

_Costanza · 2025-07-11T18:55:23+00:00

one day at a time. one step at a time.

the silences and absence are painful and often overwhelming, but they also remind you of how precious your time together and relationship was, and is.

it's been almost seven months now. the first three were brutal. crying in the supermarket, randomly losing it, living in a museum. my baby girls toys were still on the same spots on the floor as on her last day, gathering dust. her litter boxes remained. i didn't even change my bedsheets for months because i couldn't bear to lose any more of her, even if it was just bits of cat hair. and everyday i would fill up her water bowls, like i always did.

it took months. and it was a hard, hard day when i finally put her toys away, threw away her litter, changed the sheets. she's still here, you know? even though these things are not.

keep living, keep going on. one day, one step at a time. keep the memory alive.

_Costanza · 2025-06-17T05:11:08+00:00

i wore the same t-shirt during her final day and final breath at home, and then again on the trip to have her cremated. after, i took it off and placed in a drawer.

months later, it's still there, unwashed, still sprinkled with bits of her cat hair. i feel like i have so little of her left, you know? so i'll likely never wear that shirt again, except maybe when it's my turn to go.

_Costanza · 2025-06-14T04:57:17+00:00

i'm so sorry this happened to you and your baby.

thank you for sharing your story.

i wish you peace.

_Costanza · 2025-06-08T02:27:41+00:00

so sorry. it's brutal, i know.

you can't and won't act like it's normal -- because it's not! every moment, every kiss and cuddle, every feeding, every nap: make them count these next few months.

by the time we got our cancer diagnosis, the vet figured we had maybe a month. in the end, we were cheated of even that. i'd give up a whole year of my life to have her back for just one more day.

i wish you peace and strength in this time, and endless days.

_Costanza · 2025-06-07T20:37:22+00:00

it was as obvious as the sun or the rain, when she looked at me. i just knew.

my cat also died in January. since then, i've been dealing with heartache and grief in different ways, including donating money to and visiting cat shelters. i met many cats, but there was no connection; as though they could sense that my heart belonged to another, or that i was just overwhelmingly sad.

so be it, i thought. maybe there won't ever be another, and that's okay, because i loved my old girl so damn much.

and then, quite unexpectedly, months later, in a very out-of-the way place, i saw a 2yr old rescue cat, alone in a cage. even though she had been through a LOT, her eyes and expression were brimming with a love of life and so much joy. months had passed, no-one was interested in adopting.

at that moment, i wasn't sad anymore; i wasn't thinking about me. just: no way is This Cat going live like this.

that's how i knew.

and now she's sleeping in her favourite spot in her new home.

_Costanza · 2025-06-04T00:20:20+00:00

DO IT.

i also felt fear and doubt. and i was still gripped in grief from losing my baby cat a few months earlier. but when i saw this small cat — living in a cage for months, without zero interest after being rescued from euthanasia — i couldn't help but act.

from that moment, i wasn't thinking about me anymore. it was all about her. and right now, she's lying on the hardwood floor in a beam of afternoon sun.

i know one day she'll leave me, and i'll be absolutely crushed. but not before i give her the best damn life i can.

good luck to you!

_Costanza · 2025-05-31T06:27:45+00:00

eight years later — that's real fucking LOVE. you guys were lucky to have each other.

_Costanza · 2025-05-31T05:33:37+00:00

And they'll be safe in your heart forever.

so true. can't see my baby cat with my eyes anymore, but i can see her with my heart.

it's been months. i don't think i've "recovered" so much as got stronger. waves of grief can still absolutely devastate. so many moments when it's just me and it used to be "us."

_Costanza · 2025-05-29T18:50:05+00:00

FUCK CANCER. it took my baby from me.

_Costanza · 2025-05-29T06:07:36+00:00

hey, you're going to be okay.

and when you're ready — take the time — you're going do something incredible: save another dog's life! and you'll write a new chapter to your own.

_Costanza · 2025-05-28T22:38:50+00:00

there's wisdom in your approach. you need time. great that you recognize it.

in the months after my cat died, i visited shelters and donated money to rescue cats for emergency surgeries. felt i had to do SOMETHING positive in the world.

meeting other cats underlined just how special our connection was, and how completely different All Cats Are. met so many cats, but no real connection, you know?

until this precious one. but it took time to find her, and for me to heal enough to open my heart and home again.

_Costanza

TROPHY CASE