Tamagirl_Desy
Well-known member
Although I am no longer an active member of the Tamatalk community, this was a part of my childhood.
I was known as TGD, short form for my username which still stands as tamagirl_desy.
I played with tamagotchis, I was (or should say am) a girl, and had a cat that I loved named Desmond, a.k.a Desy.
Most accounts that I made over the years on different sites had one thing in common, and that was the Desy part.
He was my rock, the thing in my life that I loved the most.
Yesterday, I had to say goodbye. Goodbye to my bestfriend.
I knew it was coming. However, only a mere few months ago, he seemed perfectly fine. He was the same old Desmond.
He was still jumping up on the table while my family and I played cards, sticking his paw into glasses of water and poking his head into plastic bags.
He was playful, he was full of life, and I still loved him as much as I did 12 years ago when we first brought him home.
Then, a few weeks ago, something was off. One afternoon, it seemed as though he had trouble walking.
One of his back legs had a limp, and he would stop to lay down every couple of minutes.
Me and my mom kept an eye on him the rest of the day, and thankfully by the evening he was back to walking normally.
Okay, he must have slept on it wrong or hurt it a bit when jumping down from somewhere.
And that was that. Then, sometime later, I could tell something was off again. It was worse this time.
He was having problems walking again, this time both legs seeming almost paralyzed.
He was acting lethargic, and was obviously uncomfortable. Walking up and downstairs seemed like a much more difficult task.
My parents said we would take him to the vets if things got worse.
But, just like before, the next day he seemed okay. His back legs were working again and nothing seemed much out of the ordinary.
My parents weren't willing to take him to the vets quite yet, since the problem had seemed to disappear and they knew how much a vet bill would cost.
Desy seemed fine now, so what was the rush to get any medical help?
But looking back, I wish we had acted sooner. I wish we had acted the minute he had started showing symptoms.
I think we were all in a bit of denial, but there came a point where we couldn't deny his condition anymore.
One day shortly after, he stopped eating. He stopped drinking. He wasn't able to jump up to his usual spots, and he had seemingly lost a bunch of weight overnight.
He started breathing out through his mouth, panting with any physical activity. He would only sleep in the sphinx position, and never looked quite comfortable.
I called my parents crying because at one point, I thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
Finally we took him to the vets. After being put on an IV and put through a bunch of tests, we found out what his diagnosis was. "Congestive heart failure,"
When we brought him in, he only had 25% of his lung capacity left. The rest of his lungs had been full of fluid.
The veterinarian was able to extract a good amount of the fluid, however the prognosis wasn't good.
He suggested we put him down, but we wanted to do whatever we could to get him to live as long as possible.
We were given medication, special food to keep his nutrition levels up, and were able to take him home three days later.
He still would not eat, and only drank water because of the medication we were giving to him.
After a little while, it was clear his heart wasn't pumping enough oxygen to his legs.
Everyday he seemed just a little bit weaker, and eventually only had the energy to walk a few steps before collapsing on the floor.
Some days he almost seemed to show signs of improvement, but those days were short lived.
Eventually, my parents had to hold him like a baby and force feed him, and carry him down to his litter box since he couldn't make it on his own.
He was not the same cat that I had seen only a few months ago.
He was, for the most part, unresponsive, except for the occasional purr if you rubbed his head.
He slept a lot, but soon even sleep seemed to be hard for him.
We knew we would most likely have to put him to sleep. However I kept on begging that we try a new medication, something stronger that may ease the pain he might have been in.
Yesterday morning, while being force fed, every bite made him out of breath.
He began to seek comfort underneath the protection of tables, instead of out in the open where he had normally been laying.
In the afternoon, he went missing. We couldn't seem to find him anywhere... obviously he had found a place to hide, which wasn't a good sign.
Most cats are aware of when they are going to pass on, and often hide to do so.
I had to go to work, so I hoped that my parents would be able to find him and things would be okay.
That was not the case. They had finally found him underneath the couch, breathing hard and with what almost looked like tears in his eyes.
They brought him down to the basement to try and use the bathroom, but he collapsed in his litterbox. My dad put in him on top of a small pillow and covered him with a blanket.
Later they told me that for awhile, he looked peaceful. His eyes had been open, but his body was relaxed and it simply looked like he was was going to sleep.
When they came to check on him a little while later, he had moved off the pillow onto the floor and had passed away.
His heart was too weak and just could't keep him alive anymore. Since being diagnosed, he had survived almost three weeks.
He made it through Christmas, he even held on to be with us into the New Year. However, New Years day was the day he couldn't hold on any longer.
Desmond was my bestfriend for 12 years. He was with me through everything... through heartbreak, through depression, through happiness.
When I missed over half of highschool because of medical reasons, he was the one who I spent my days with.
I never felt alone in my house because he was there, making me laugh with his silly antics or even just keeping me company by sleeping in the same room.
Now that he's gone, a part of me of has gone too. I already feel emptier, and find myself searching for him in his favourite places.
I'm not sure why I wanted to create this topic, or why I decided to share my story here.
I guess it may be because Desy was a part of my identity here, and because I always remember this site as being a community full of people who don't judge and are understanding.
Facebook didn't seem like the right place, nor did any other sort of social media, so here I am.
If anyone has any words of advice on how to cope, it would be greatly appreciated.
Feel free to also share your stories if you've ever had a similar experience in losing a pet.
Thanks for reading. xo
I was known as TGD, short form for my username which still stands as tamagirl_desy.
I played with tamagotchis, I was (or should say am) a girl, and had a cat that I loved named Desmond, a.k.a Desy.
Most accounts that I made over the years on different sites had one thing in common, and that was the Desy part.
He was my rock, the thing in my life that I loved the most.
Yesterday, I had to say goodbye. Goodbye to my bestfriend.
I knew it was coming. However, only a mere few months ago, he seemed perfectly fine. He was the same old Desmond.
He was still jumping up on the table while my family and I played cards, sticking his paw into glasses of water and poking his head into plastic bags.
He was playful, he was full of life, and I still loved him as much as I did 12 years ago when we first brought him home.
Then, a few weeks ago, something was off. One afternoon, it seemed as though he had trouble walking.
One of his back legs had a limp, and he would stop to lay down every couple of minutes.
Me and my mom kept an eye on him the rest of the day, and thankfully by the evening he was back to walking normally.
Okay, he must have slept on it wrong or hurt it a bit when jumping down from somewhere.
And that was that. Then, sometime later, I could tell something was off again. It was worse this time.
He was having problems walking again, this time both legs seeming almost paralyzed.
He was acting lethargic, and was obviously uncomfortable. Walking up and downstairs seemed like a much more difficult task.
My parents said we would take him to the vets if things got worse.
But, just like before, the next day he seemed okay. His back legs were working again and nothing seemed much out of the ordinary.
My parents weren't willing to take him to the vets quite yet, since the problem had seemed to disappear and they knew how much a vet bill would cost.
Desy seemed fine now, so what was the rush to get any medical help?
But looking back, I wish we had acted sooner. I wish we had acted the minute he had started showing symptoms.
I think we were all in a bit of denial, but there came a point where we couldn't deny his condition anymore.
One day shortly after, he stopped eating. He stopped drinking. He wasn't able to jump up to his usual spots, and he had seemingly lost a bunch of weight overnight.
He started breathing out through his mouth, panting with any physical activity. He would only sleep in the sphinx position, and never looked quite comfortable.
I called my parents crying because at one point, I thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
Finally we took him to the vets. After being put on an IV and put through a bunch of tests, we found out what his diagnosis was. "Congestive heart failure,"
When we brought him in, he only had 25% of his lung capacity left. The rest of his lungs had been full of fluid.
The veterinarian was able to extract a good amount of the fluid, however the prognosis wasn't good.
He suggested we put him down, but we wanted to do whatever we could to get him to live as long as possible.
We were given medication, special food to keep his nutrition levels up, and were able to take him home three days later.
He still would not eat, and only drank water because of the medication we were giving to him.
After a little while, it was clear his heart wasn't pumping enough oxygen to his legs.
Everyday he seemed just a little bit weaker, and eventually only had the energy to walk a few steps before collapsing on the floor.
Some days he almost seemed to show signs of improvement, but those days were short lived.
Eventually, my parents had to hold him like a baby and force feed him, and carry him down to his litter box since he couldn't make it on his own.
He was not the same cat that I had seen only a few months ago.
He was, for the most part, unresponsive, except for the occasional purr if you rubbed his head.
He slept a lot, but soon even sleep seemed to be hard for him.
We knew we would most likely have to put him to sleep. However I kept on begging that we try a new medication, something stronger that may ease the pain he might have been in.
Yesterday morning, while being force fed, every bite made him out of breath.
He began to seek comfort underneath the protection of tables, instead of out in the open where he had normally been laying.
In the afternoon, he went missing. We couldn't seem to find him anywhere... obviously he had found a place to hide, which wasn't a good sign.
Most cats are aware of when they are going to pass on, and often hide to do so.
I had to go to work, so I hoped that my parents would be able to find him and things would be okay.
That was not the case. They had finally found him underneath the couch, breathing hard and with what almost looked like tears in his eyes.
They brought him down to the basement to try and use the bathroom, but he collapsed in his litterbox. My dad put in him on top of a small pillow and covered him with a blanket.
Later they told me that for awhile, he looked peaceful. His eyes had been open, but his body was relaxed and it simply looked like he was was going to sleep.
When they came to check on him a little while later, he had moved off the pillow onto the floor and had passed away.
His heart was too weak and just could't keep him alive anymore. Since being diagnosed, he had survived almost three weeks.
He made it through Christmas, he even held on to be with us into the New Year. However, New Years day was the day he couldn't hold on any longer.
Desmond was my bestfriend for 12 years. He was with me through everything... through heartbreak, through depression, through happiness.
When I missed over half of highschool because of medical reasons, he was the one who I spent my days with.
I never felt alone in my house because he was there, making me laugh with his silly antics or even just keeping me company by sleeping in the same room.
Now that he's gone, a part of me of has gone too. I already feel emptier, and find myself searching for him in his favourite places.
I'm not sure why I wanted to create this topic, or why I decided to share my story here.
I guess it may be because Desy was a part of my identity here, and because I always remember this site as being a community full of people who don't judge and are understanding.
Facebook didn't seem like the right place, nor did any other sort of social media, so here I am.
If anyone has any words of advice on how to cope, it would be greatly appreciated.
Feel free to also share your stories if you've ever had a similar experience in losing a pet.
Thanks for reading. xo
