Today is Friday, October 7, 2022. Today was a very difficult day for Elliot and me since our beloved cat had to be put down in our vet’s office this afternoon, at around 5:40 p.m. Jocelyn had not been herself for over a month now. The last time we had taken her to the Juniper Valley Hospital, the vet there, Dr. “Cauley,” had said that her vital signs were not very good. She was showing fluid on her lungs that prevented her from breathing regularly and had cardiomyopathy. She suffered from congestive heart failure, which she had for about a year. This was discovered after she survived a mastectomy, in November 2019. But Jocelyn was pegged as a fighter by all of the workers at the clinic. She was called “feisty,” as I recall by the surgeon who operated on her about three years ago. She rallied after this medical emergency, but she could not bounce back from the myriad medical crises plaguing her in her twelfth year.

For the last month or so, Jocelyn exhibited a dramatic change in her behavior. She stopped coming into the bedroom and stopped exploring other parts of the apartment, which she easily did before we came back from our summer sojourn to London and Scotland. For a long time, she stayed by the door and slept for much of the day. She would still get water by herself and had the wherewithal to come into the kitchen and jump onto the dining table to wait for food. But she lacked her usual joie de vivre, it seemed. What disturbed us, particularly, was her labored breathing which did not lessen with Elliot giving her her three medications a day.

This morning, Elliot was really disturbed by Jocelyn’s more labored breathing, so he called the vet and was told to bring her in at 4. What was particularly unnerving was that she threw up a mucous ball which was something she rarely did. This she hadn’t done before; so this upset Elliot to the point of calling the veterinarian. She ate less and less and hardly had any energy to move from her spot by the water bowl. These were definitely not good signs!

So we brought her in at 4 and was told by the assistant to come back at 5 since the doctor wasn’t ready to see her. So we drove back to aptly named Eliot Avenue and to Panepinto Bakery to grab a coffee and some pastry.

When we drove back and entered the waiting room, we were met immediately by Dr. Cauley who ushered us into an examining room where she gave us her terrible prognosis. She mentioned that after she examined Jocelyn, she felt that she was worse off than a few weeks before. She noted more fluids around her lungs and her heart and she mentioned that she could give her more Lasix for her heart, but that she would need to be anesthetized, which could even kill her. Also, she indicated that she would only have a day or more of life, nothing more. This was not what we wanted to hear. When Elliot asked Dr. Cauley if Jocelyn were in pain, she said, “She doesn’t really know if she is, but she is suffering,” something to that effect. At that point, Elliot burst out crying and gave permission to the vet to put Jocelyn down.

We were now given some time to say goodbye to Jocelyn and we petted her one last time. You can imagine how anguished we both were at this time. While we were saying our goodbyes to Jocelyn, I could see that her breathing was still very labored. She was very unresponsive, sadly. This didn’t stop Elliot from showering Jocelyn with love anyway.

The doctor came back in and took Jocelyn away for a short time. Then she returned to administer the lethal dose of pentobarbital as Elliot held her in a blue blanket. The procedure took all of several seconds. I was amazed over how fast it all was. Jocelyn went limp right away and faded in Elliot’s arms. Jocelyn’s eyes remained open and I recall Elliot asking if the vet could close her eyes, and she responded that this is the way it is. She whisked our princess away in the blanket and told us that we can collect her ashes at a later time. An assistant came in to inquire about Jocelyn’s full name and had us sign a release form.

Because of how upset Elliot was, I drove home. What struck us on the ride home was our sighting almost immediately after going through this ordeal with Jocelyn a black cat scurry across the road at Penelope Avenue, where I drove through to get to Woodside Avenue. We thought this was a heavenly omen of sorts. Maybe Jocelyn’s soul entered this black cat running across Penelope Avenue, we wanted to believe.

Now that we are home, all I can say is how strange it is not having Jocelyn here with us. It will take some time to recover from her passing. As I recall, in her good days, she would always come up to greet us when we came into the door. I will sorely miss that!

I know our good friend “Mark” is devastated by the news of Jocelyn’s death. He particularly enjoyed seeing her during his many times spent with us in our home. In fact, he called during the procedure, where I had to tell him that we were at the vet and had to call him back when we got home. Needless to say, he was devastated, but thought we did the right thing by having Jocelyn euthanized.

We now have Jocelyn’s red collar that we removed from around her neck before she was taken by the vet. The collar has a silver tag from the North Shore Animal League, where we adopted her more than twelve years ago.

Stay safe and be well.