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We thought it was constipation with our cat too; we took her to the vet last week to get her an enema; at the end o the day we went to the vet and he said sh needed another one, should we give it to her ourselves or should we leave her there for the night? he asked. We looked at each other (me and my husband) and said, "You do it...we'll pick her up in the morning."

I woke up that next morning with my husband shaking me awake saying, "Maia died during the night.." The vet did an autopsy and found it was cancer. And I can't believe I left her to die in that cold tub the vet had her in to give the enema. I just kills me.

You did what you believed was best for her, don't let yourself get eaten up with guilt. I would have made the same decision, because I know how the little imps know they will get away with stuff with their families that they'd never pull with the vet. I've pretty much given up trying to clip claws because it would take five of me to hold the guy down and clip them, but at the vet's, he'll just sit there and accept his fate. :)

I've got similar stuff gnawing at me, like I should have taken the effort to catch her sooner, maybe she'd have been stronger if she hadn't have spent two winters outside living in the barn. (She was very good at not being caught. If you picked her up, she'd go nuts as soon as you started walking, and she'd rip your hand open. My father inlaw didn't believe it because she was such a tiny timid cat, so he tried, and it took over a month for the wounds to heal, literally.) And then I think I should have pushed the vet harder -- a week or two ago, when she was stable, but very thin, we called the vet to ask about prednisone to try to build her up. They said they thought it was FIP and that the prednisone would be a lost cause. Now, they think it'll help, but I keep thinking that maybe if she got it earlier, she wouldn't have gone downhill so much. I'll never know.

Remember, if you had taken her home, and she died there, you'd have the same kind of feelings, but in reverse, "I should have left her at the vet, maybe she'd still be alive." You do what you can, you grit your teeth, and go on. The world is filled with wonderful but "unwanted" cats. Take another one in, not to make up for the baby you lost -- nothing can do that -- but to make life better for another rejected orphan. You will both benefit.

I believe that we will see our pets in heaven, and that God is comforting them now as they wait for us. Jesus talked about how God watches even the sparrows. I can't accept that He doesn't care about the little companions He created for us.

It can be a nasty, cold world, and people can backstab and betray, but I've found that dogs and cats are the truest friends there are. Their loyalty is boundless, and they earn every bit of affection they get in return, and then some.