I lost Ralph Friday. It was sudden and unexpected. I came home from work, started the usual routine of grabbing my mail and saying hello to the cats – when I see Ralph wasn’t there to greet me. Stepping into the living room, I see him laying near the bottom of the stairs. Of course, those mixed feelings hit me – a combination of dread and fear and hope that really nothing is wrong and I’m being paranoid. But I know something’s wrong, the way you just KNOW. He’s not getting up. I give him a freeze-dried 100% meat treat and he eats it eagerly, but he’s not getting up. Honestly, I hoped he’d just fallen down the stairs and broken his leg, but again, I just KNEW. I knew this was bad.
Ralphie in the cat tree, surveying his domain
I drove him to the emergency vet, and I hopefully told them maybe he fell down the stairs… but the minute the veterinarian looked at his gums and pawpads and told the assistant to put him on oxygen… I knew before they told me, Ralph had thrown a blood clot.
Unfortunately, this is a very painful condition which generally can’t be well-managed, and there are no real effective treatment options. The vet suggested taking x-rays, just to be thorough, and I went along with it… knowing it was pointless, but willing to grasp on to any tiny sliver of hope offered… but we all knew.
I let him go. I talked to him and stroked him, and kissed the top of his furry little head, and wished him well… and my heart, the heart that didn’t seem capable of breaking or aching any more than it already did having lost Latifah, Afer, Omaha, and Louie in less than two years… well, it did. It hurt more, and I don’t know how you can describe pain when the pain that already existed was unbearable, and more pain was heaped on top of it. How do you put that kind of pain into words?
I try to take solace in the fact he didn’t suffer long. That morning he was fine. We had our usual routine of him hopping into bed with me once he realized I was awake to get his morning hug – and following me into the restroom for more hugs and kisses and cuddles. His precious little meow reminding me to hurry with their breakfast and all his “assistance” as I got their food ready and medicated the ones that need it.
Ralphie in a box
I called Ralph my little “miracle man” because when all others had given up hope for him, he rallied and proved that if you just STOP dumping poison into a cat – they really are SO resiliant and can overcome so much. The jaundice, diabetes, anemia, chronic fungal and bacterial infections – they were all gone… but they had taken their toll on his little heart, and the damage was done, and it came back to haunt us on Friday.
I don’t know who will be Jellybean’s knight in shining armor, protecting her from the dangers she sees lurking around the corner. I don’t know who will cuddle with Studley (and hump him, though Studley probably won’t miss that). I don’t know who will greet guests and sit in their laps and purr so loudly you can hear it across the room, and make big drool puddles on the guest’s arms and laps. I don’t know.
We’ll carry on. We’ll just keep going, me and the four cats that are left. But there will be another gaping hole where this precious little being was – and now isn’t.
Fly free, my little miracle man.
Ralphie with "Hump-me the Tiger"
More about Ralph.
Life of the Lintee Bean 
So sad, this made me teary-eyed. I lost a cat too from throwing a clot, and so did my sister. It isn’t fair our fur kids don’t get to live very long. But I know they go on to a better place, like we all do when we pass.
Oh, Lynette, I feel so deeply for you. How wonderful that you had a final good morning with him and that you could comfort him when he left. I know it has to hurt so much and I wish you much healing. You’ve had such a tough two years. Hugs from St. Louis!
Oh Lynette, I’m so very sorry. It was through reading Ralphie’s story that I found your blog. You’ve had so many losses recently too; it just doesn’t seem fair. But how happy Ralph looks in those pics, and he wouldn’t have had any of that joy if you hadn’t found each other. You gave him back his life and then, at the end, gave him the wonderful gift of helping him leave it peacefully. Run free over the rainbow bridge, Ralphie. Ax
Oh (((Lynette))) I’m so sorry. Ralph was such a sweetie and a character too. I think I was just getting to know you about the time you adopted him and I always think of your descriptions of him in ringworm isolation, trying to medicate him and Ralph’s only reaction being “LAP TIME!!!” =) Just try to hold onto those happy memories and know that without you his life would have ended much sooner and he’d never have had those happy, healthy times.
I’m so sorry for your loss. We have said good-bye to our share of loved pets too and I just had to reach out to you with sympathy.
Oh Lynette, I’m so so sorry. Saying goodbye to one is hard enough, but having lost the others so recently, what words are there?
You gave these little beings such a good life and wonderful care. How fortunate they were for that. They couldn’t have had a better mom bean.
It is so difficult to say goodbye to these precious little companions.
I’m sending you caring thoughts.
Lynette–I’ve never commented before, but I want to express my deep sympathy for the loss of your beautiful Ralphie. I’m so very sorry he is no longer with you. I like to imagine that he is romping with Latifah, Afer, Omaha, Louie at the Rainbow Bridge. Bless you for loving Ralphie and for sharing your life with him. Rest in peace, dear Ralphie… :`(
Lynette – I am so sorry to read about Ralphie. You do so much good for these amazing creatures that it doesn’t seem fair that they are taken away. Many hugs, Ruthe
I am so so so sorry for your loss.
Those are the only words I have to express my heartfelt sympathy.
oh no. lynette, i just saw this. i am so very sorry. (((hugs)))
[…] Update: Ralph passed away in August 2009. His memorial post is here. […]
[…] However, the reason he wasn’t eating as much was less apparent. Did he miss Louie and Ralphie, his cat buddies who passed away in 2009? Unfortunately, I can’t ask him. Well, I can […]
I am dealing with my kitty girl
Tailee
She was diagnosed with high liver values and on denamarin
She hardly eats so I have to give her cyprohepadrine ..
I am so attached to her
You see I helped her mom Alma 12 years deliver her..I am the 1st face she saw when born.. Please pray she be alright..
Many blessings!
I have a cat (RALPH pronounced RAFE Felines
Looks a lot like yours
He is Taille s big DAddy
;o)
I know it’s been more than a year since you lost Ralph, but I wanted to go ahead and offer my sympathies anyway. I hope it’s a comfort to you when I say he knew you loved him very much. You made it possible for Ralph to know what it is like to have a good, loving home and good health in the last years of his life, years he never would have had were it not for you.
I hope by now you have healed enough to think of Ralph and smile instead of hurt.
His story gave me hope for the recovery of my 5 year old cat Dude, who was just diagnosed yesterday with diabetes. That’s how I came to find your blog, when I was looking up information to help me learn how best to care for Dude.
I’m also struck by how much Dude looks like Ralph!
[IMG]http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w304/dooflotchie/cat/duder002-1.jpg[/IMG]
Thank you so much!
I hope you find information on my blog that is helpful. I have several posts on diabetes, as I’ve cared for many cats (adopted and fostered) with diabetes mellitus.
https://meowmeowmom.wordpress.com/tag/diabetes/