Hanna *I miss you my big girl!

Domestic Shorthair
Picture of Hanna *I miss you my big girl!, a female Domestic Shorthair

Photo Comments (5)Sex: Female

[I have a diary!]  

Today is my Rainbow Bridge Day.

   Leave a treat for Hanna *I miss you my big girl!

Special Gift Box:
The family of Mietzi Katze♥ and Timo Katze - DB #105

Hanna Banana, Nana, Hanney, Big Girl

Kitty Complexion:
sleepyvery active
not curiousvery curious
not vocalvery vocal

Sun Sign:
Quick Bio:
-mixed breed

Gotcha Date:
April 28th 1999

February 28th 1999

Brown-Patched Tabby

She just loved to be wherever I was.

She hated the dog, when I had to wipe her bum, and trips to the vet.

Favorite Toy:
She loved those fake fur covered mice.

Favorite Nap Spot:
Anywhere next to me.

Favorite Food:
She ate Science Diet. This was before I knew about catinfo.org

She always came when I called her. No matter what.


Arrival Story:
I was 17 and my previous cat Monika was attacked by a Fishercat. I cried for weeks. My mom brought me to the animal shelter to take a look. I didn't see any cats that seemed intersted in me. My mom said that maybe it wasn't meant to be, and we left it at that. We were walking out and an older gentleman was walking in with two carriers. I heard him mention that him and his wife could no longer care for his cat who just had kittens. I whispered to my mom "Kittens!" she asked the man if I could take a look. A whole carrier of kittens. 7 of them. All white with black spots except for this little brown tabby with white paws in the back, huddled in the corner. I picked her up and she clung to me like glue! She was like that for the next 10 years of her life, stuck to me like glue!

Hanna was always a big girl. Weighing in at a hefty 18 pounds. I noticed that she was pooping outside her box. I brought her to the vets and found out she had a severe UTI. She was prescribed Zeniquin. She seemed to be doing better. Then her eyes started to dialate. I brought her to the vets who referred me to an opthamologist. She was diagnosed with mild bilateral glaucoma and they gave me drops to put in her eyes. She started squinting, drooling uncontrollably, she would breathe with her mouth open, tongue hanging out. I brought her to the vets on 3 seperate occasions and was told "she is fine" Finally I thought that she was gasping for breath. I brought her to the ER vet and luckily enough for me he was married to a veterinarian neurologist. She finally was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I had to put her to sleep. It was the most devistating thing I have ever done in my life and I don't wish it on anyone. She is now happy at the bridge. I love you my Hanney!!

Forums Motto:
I miss you too mom...

I've Been On Catster Since:
February 10th 2011 More than 6 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:

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I miss you Hanney...

My Hanna...

February 27th 2012 7:43 am
[ Leave A Comment | 3 people already have ]

I was going to start a diary for Hanna, but I'm starting to forget her. Is that bad? I should of taken more pictures of her. I do remember that she was a big girl though 18lbs. Which is probably why I always feel that Hunter is too skinny. Hanna was short and had that spay pouch that swayed. She followed me everywhere. I'd call her and she would come running. Hanna was very mellow. She was definately a lap cat. Always sitting on my lap while I watched tv, or was on my computer. For some reason, all of the cats I've had, they were all one person cats.

I still remember what I was wearing when I first saw her. Out of 7 kittens she was the only tabby, way in the back of a cat carrier. Hanna took after her father. I saw the mother cat. She was a cow cat. White with black spots. Not Hanna. Completely different. Thats why I picked her out. All the others were white with black spots. I picked her up and she clung to my jacket like glue. I actually had to pry her off. I remember bringing her home. I got in a car accident. I was fine. I remember freaking out thinking that I caused her to have brain damage. Now that I think of it, its pretty funny. I was 17 and had no idea what I was doing. Through the next 10 years she was always there. She slept on my bed against my back. I think she still would be with me if I fed her the right foods. My vet at the time told me to feed her Science Diet. So I did. Who was I to question a vet? I was stupid. She was the one constant being in my life. It took 3 weeks, from the first vet visit when she had a UTI, to the ER Vet when I had to put her down. In those 3 weeks, she went to the vets 5 times. She went to her vet 3 times, then twice to a specialist. Her vet kept on telling me she was fine. I'll never forget it. How is she fine, when her eyes were squinty, she was breathing with her mouth open, she could barely walk, her tongue was hanging out and she was drooling puddles. How is that fine? On 3 seperate occasions they told me this. "Kelly, she is absolutely fine" That is not fine! She was dying.

During those 3 weeks all I did was cry. I came home, saw her, and I cried. I cried at work. I cried in the car. She was my baby and she was dying. I didn't know what to do. I trusted the vet who told me that "She is fine" So I waited. I had no reason not to trust them. I'll never forget it. It was a Sunday morning, and It seemed like she was gasping for breath. I called the ER Vet which is a totally seperate facility and told them. She said to bring her in right away and that they'll be waiting. So I did. Lucky for me its only 15 minutes down the road. I brought her in, they wisked her away into an oxygen chamber. I sat in the waiting room with my dad, crying. I remember sitting across from my dad and next to him was a whole stack of Cat Fancy magazines. How ironic huh?

The vet came out to see me. He said that she was stablizing. I told him the whole story, her symptoms etc. He was so nice and calm with me. He told me that his wife was a veterinarian neurologist. That I could make an appointment for her to be seen there, since the other vets tests were all normal. Then he took me aside and said "Honestly Kelly, I've seen this before. She most probably has a brain tumor. Which is causing all of these malfunctions" I just about lost it. He asked, "what do you want to do?" I said, "I just want her to get better. I just want to go home." I then asked him "If she was yours, what would you do?" Then I got the typical "I can't answer that, the decision is yours." I didn't want to hear that crap. I was an emotional wreck. It was my decision and I just wanted some validation that I was doing the right thing. I've never done this before. He told me they could operate on Hanna, but she might not even make it through that, and Its very, very expensive. They were talking brain surgery. Again, I asked him what would he do? Again, he took me aside and said "If she were mine, I'd let her go. She has suffered enough. I don't think she can get throught this" I needed someone, anyone to tell me what to do. For some reason I trusted him. He was the first person in 3 weeks to tell me like it was, and wasn't sugar coating everything. On that day, I let Hanna go to the Rainbow Bridge.

I still think of her every now and then. I hated coming home from work and not seeing her. I missed her like crazy. For about a year after, I kept her collar on my keys, so she was always with me. I didn't want another cat. That was it for me. So for two weeks, I worked, came home, and cried. I would talk to my sister on the phone and cry. I cried so much that I had a rash from the salt in my tears. Finally my sister couldn't handle my depressing phone calls. She brought me to a shelter to look at the cats. I didn't want to go in. Why would I want to go to a shelter to look at cats who might look like Hanna? What was she, crazy? She begged me to go in. She wouldn't shut up, so I went in just to please her. She asked the volunteer if they had any kittens? She had to go ask. I thought to myself, she doesn't know if they have any kittens? Yea, great volunteer. She came back and said, they have just been released from quarantine, they can go home today. She brought me back to a cage with 5 white furballs. I see this white furball, on the back shelf of the cage, dive bombing onto one of its siblings. I cracked up. For the first time in weeks, I laughed. It was an 8 week old male kitten. Medium length white fur with an orange tail and orange on his head. The only medium haired kitten in the bunch.
His name was "Sunkist" aka Hunter. The rest is history.

Maybe this is why I'm so neurotic when it comes to Hunter. I want him as healthy as possible. This is also why I don't trust vets. Although Hunters vet, has never given me a reason as of yet not to trust them.

I guess I just wanted to write Hannas story for myself. For me to remember and never forget what happened to my big girl. This is the first time I can write about her and not cry, although the tears are welling up in my eyes. Maybe that'll never go away. Who knows!

I can say one thing though, Hanna taught me to always get a 2nd opinion, speak my mind, research. Its up to me to speak for my animals. If I don't, who will?

I will always love you Hanna!!

Miss you big girl,

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