From bad to worse

From bad to worse

Well, if my life wasn’t well and truly f@#*ed, it is now. My surgery on Monday went fine and I will write an update about that in a day or two.

The saddest news of all is that my cat died on Monday night. We moved house on Saturday (I know – as if I didn’t have enough on my plate) and my cat started acting weird. He stopped eating, drinking and going to the bathroom. Rob and I both assumed he was just scared from the move. I even googled his symptoms and everything I read reassured me that his behaviour was normal.

On Monday morning, he was very weak and flopping around from place to place. I left the house at 7am and did not get home until 9pm, as I was at the hospital all day. When I got home, Rocky was lying on the floor barely moving. Rob got home half an hour later and I begged him to take Rocky to the emergency vet clinic.

I figured he was just dehydrated., but I didn’t want to wait until the morning to take him to the vet. I didn’t even say goodbye to Rocky as he walked out the door. He didn’t make it to the vet. He died in the cab ride over.


He was just a baby. He turned four only three weeks ago. He should have had a long life ahead of him. I was not prepared to lose him for at least a decade. The thought of him dying that night never even crossed my mind. I have lost pets before, but I was always semi-prepared for it. This came out of nowhere. The pain is astronomical.

The vet says he had a blocked bladder, which can only take 24-48 hours to kill. Because of how rapidly his condition declined, they also think he had a weak heart or kidneys.

Rocky had a really hard life. We rescued him from a shelter when he was six months old. He had been abused as a kitten and it took him over a year before he became affectionate with us. He was terrified of other people, and only started warming up to strangers when we moved to London.


I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him with another family in Sydney, so we paid thousands of dollars to move him here. He was our fur baby and I loved him dearly. I’ve spent much of the past year working from home and we had become so close. Our new place even has a cat door, so he was finally going to be able to go outside.


I am not superwoman. There is only so much that I can handle. Having a major operation and losing my baby on the same day is just too much. My heart is broken and I feel empty inside. I cannot stop crying. I feel like I let Rocky down. I keep hoping this is some kind of sick joke and he is going to walk back through the front door. I can’t believe he is never coming home.

The vet assured us that there’s no way we could have known anything was wrong because of the move, but it is impossible not to blame yourself. I was so focused on my surgery that day that I just assumed Rocky was being a baby. I assumed he would have been back to normal when I arrived home. I hoped that me being home for the next two weeks would help comfort him. I should have insisted that he went to the vet on Monday morning. Even then, I don’t know if they would have been able to save him.

I will always love you, my beautiful baby Rocky. I hope they are giving you lots of Doritos and playing Billie Holliday in heaven.









The day we got him <3

The day we got him <3



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