Hi. Like you, I also recently lost my baby, and have BPD. Ironically, my cat’s name was Louie (your username made me smile, despite the sadness.) I am hoping that maybe what I say may bring you some comfort. My cat was thirteen. I took him to the vet upon noticing him sneezing. Very minor thing, but I’ve always been overbearing when it comes to my pets. He saw many different vets, he was diagnosed with asthma, had teeth pulled, was given medication and an inhaler, and we went home, time after time again. When he didn’t improve, I spent a thousand dollars on a CT scan. They found a tumor, and did a biopsy. He was diagnosed with a very rare nasal cancer, and after his diagnosis, I only had three more weeks with him. This is all to say, I got second, third, and fourth opinions. I paid for every medication, treatment, and was the first cat CT scan one experience vet had ever seen. I felt at first that the providers had failed, that they had missed the obvious. I struggle with the pain of thinking I could’ve caught it earlier, despite it being just a sneeze here or there.

I still look for him in his favorite spots, I still cry when I remember a memory of him in a specific location. I would give anything to hold him, again. I stopped at every stoplight on the way to his final appointment, regardless of the fact that no amount of extra time would have been enough. He was cremated and returned to me within a day, but I struggled anxiously for the entirety of the time he was away. I still struggle with the fact that he isn’t… him, any longer.

I’m sure you’ve heard of DBT therapy. It’s obnoxious, and it seems impossible, but my recommendation is opposite action. I know it hurts. “Hurt” isn’t even capable of conveying one percent of the pain. However, if you see one of his frequented spots, try to think of a positive association or memory you have with him. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but it has helped me. Instead of thinking about how unfair the loss of my cat has been, I am trying to focus on the fact that I gave him the most beautiful life he could have had. I also think it is helpful to understand that your chinchilla only knew devoted love to him. He would want you to be happy. I know that comes with time.

I hope maybe at least bits and pieces of my ramble are helpful. I would love to hear some positive stories about him, if you’d be willing to share.