My Beautiful BB has crossed the Bridge
It was just a cold.
All four of the furbabies got sick, sneezing and snorting, within a few days of each other.
Tux, the eldest at around fourteen, was the one about whom I worried most. He has asthma, believed to have been triggered by a kittenhood illness that we nursed him through, and further lung damage from smoke inhalation when our house burned in 2015. Yet he shook off the cold in just a few days and bounced back to his old self. (Perhaps the same or similar strain that had him so sick when I first adopted him, so had some resistance?)
The other two, Ari and KittyKat, suffered the typical progression. It lasted about seven days or thereabouts, pretty normal for kitty colds. They are also both fully recovered now, thankfully.
BB was the last to get sick, showing symptoms beginning with the drooling and sneezing late on Wednesday, the 19th. His seemed typical at first as well, and I did the same things to help him through. My days were filled with cleaning kitty faces and eyes and fur with warm washcloths, watching that they were eating and drinking, and keeping everybody warm and resting as comfortably as possible. Lots and lots of soft words of love and encouragement, skritches and stroking and snuggles anytime they wanted, and frequent gentle kisses and caresses of their little heads.
While each had gone off their food for a couple of days, BB's appetite wasn't returning (although he continued drinking water), but he seemed to be trying to rally. The sneezing had stopped, and his nose and eyes were clearing more and more. So I tried to entice him to eat with chicken baby food and those Fancy Feast broth and gravy packet things. When he absolutely refused those, gagging at the mere smell of them on my finger, I started trying to assist feed with Nutri-Cal, desperately trying anything to get some calories into him. He fought it so hard, though, and I was afraid of him expending too much precious energy fighting me instead of fighting the cold. I decided to take him to the vet the next day.
He weakened considerably in the hours before they could see him. His body temperature had fallen, and his white cell count was extremely high. There was some slight threadiness on his lung x-rays, so possiblilty of a touch of pneumonia. He was a very sick baby, and he was hospitalized to administer fluids and antibiotics. I cupped his face, kissed his head, told him I love him and would see him soon. The vet and I then talked for a bit, going over blood tests and x-rays and possible aftercare needs. At this time I was told he had a 50-50 chance of survival, maybe less. I was absolutely horrified. This was late Wednesday afternoon, the 26th. When I last spoke with them just before 9 PM that night, BB was described as just resting. The doctor would call me first thing in the morning. I was invited to visit him the next day, with the best time being between about 10 AM to 2 PM when they were less busy. I cried all night.
The next morning, Thursday the 27th at about ten to eight, the doctor called and said BB was not doing at all well, that he is dying. The impact of the words "agonal breathing" sent icy shockwaves of fear for him through my very soul. It was suggested that it was time to come say goodbye (if he makes it until I get there) and give permission to release him if necessary. I let him know I was on the way and called a cab. All I could think of was to get to BB to cradle him and comfort him and let him know how much he is loved. Five minutes later, the doctor called back. "BB has just passed away. There was nothing we could do."
By delaying, I had gambled with his life, and he lost.
The intervening days have been a waking nightmare. The nausea comes in waves. Grief and guilt are eating me alive. The "if only" chorus screams a discordant cacophony in my brain. I regret every single snuggle he asked for and didn't get. I miss my velcro kitty following me around chattering all day. Oh, the conversations we'd have! I miss him demanding his "tea-time" (treats), and I miss him bogarting his spooning spot where he wanted to be held like a teddy bear while he purred in my ear until we slept. And I miss so much more. I'd gladly give him his very own case of TP to shred and clean up every hairball without (too much) complaint just to have him here with me. My heart is crushed.
The only thing keeping me going is the other three furbaby children here. They still need me and I still need them. They've needed me to help them finish recovering from this damnable disease that just killed their brother. They'll need me to do better by them than I did for BB, my darling Bibbity Boots, my heartmate who chose me to love, unconditionally.
My precious, precious BB, I hope you know just how very much I love you. I hope you know somehow that I was trying to get to you in time. I hope you weren't afraid. I hope you weren't in pain. Losing you feels like losing my child. We're not supposed to have favorites, but you were, and you knew it. I hope you can find it in your beautiful heart to forgive me - I'll never, ever forgive myself for delaying that extra day before taking you to the vet. You were almost exactly ten years old. You'd never been sick a day in your life. You were healthy and strong and fit. I really thought you were going to get better.
After all... It was just a cold.
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Your profound loss.
I never know what to say to people losing their loved ones, and I've cried for many here, including you.
I just didn't know what to say. 
Please don't blame yourself. You had every reason to believe he'd recover, as the other cats did. You did the best you could with the knowledge you had at the time.
...and my delay took away any chance he had to survive.
Thank you. It's still the "if only" that won't let go. 
I'm so sorry about the loss of your friend.
"What if" is a refrain that just won't stop pounding, but being able to share with all of you here does help. I have no living family since my husband died in 2011, and no friends to speak of since that pretty much made me a recluse and I shut out the world. These furbabies saved my life then, because I was all they had, and they were all I had. In most ways, that's still the case - I reached out here for solace because there isn't anybody else.
Hugs to you
Grieve not,
nor speak of me with tears,
but laugh and talk of me
as if I were beside you -
I loved you so -
'twas Heaven here with you
~Isla Paschal Richardson
I know you bear a recent loss, too. Why won't they understand we keep them inside for safety, not to deprive them.
I'm so sorry. Hugs
and realize that BB absolutely knew you loved him.
We have a kitty going downhill with GI problems that cannot be fixed, I lost another to something similar in January and a horse about 3 weeks ago. It is hard not to wonder if they knew, hard to wonder about a lot of things but if they were healthy up to the illness and glad to spend time with you then you have your answer.
I am just saying to you all the things I have recently been told. Some helped a bit but you always just have to suffer through but think of the cuddles and purring and you know you did right by him. So many warm hugs to you. He was beautiful.
You have me in tears as I know your pain so well, heart wrenching words that speak from your soul.
sweet journey, little BB. You made this world better.
It took two days to write, as I was overcome with grief with every few words. Someday I hope to put together a happier post about his life instead of his death.
Thank you.
but I still can't help but feel that I failed his trust. Mommy didn't make it all better this time.
As confident and secure as he was with me, he was terrified of the rest of the world and everything and everybody in it. So yes, I guess I was trying in a way to shield him from the scary. It was just a cold, and I thought he'd get better...
Thanks
This is the day he picked me. I wasn't ready for another cat, having lost one just a few weeks before, but he had other ideas:
The one on the bottom of the OP, basking in the sun, is one week after I was claimed.
About two years later, deriving great joy tunneling through the clean laundry with his favorite toy:
In 2015, at the hotel where we spent about 10 months after the fire:
The sleepy one at the top of the OP was the day before he got sick. That was the last picture taken of him.
Thank you for your indulgence.
I am so sorry for your loss. Sending vibes of strength your way.
Maybe someday I can console myself with the belief that I did the best I could for him, but right now all I can think is that I failed him.
I'm so very thankful that the others are OK. There is however a gaping hole in our lives where BB once lived.
I picked up BB's ashes, pawprints, and a tuft of his fur a couple of hours ago.
I read this as I baked the clay bearing both front pawprints. They look almost as if they were caught in the act of giving "the mooshies", which is how I always described the kneading he did constantly. One paw is slightly splayed, showing his claw print, and the other as if he had just begun to pull it back. I bear scars from the needles of those sharp toes! There are just a few strands of his fur caught in the clay.
BB's ashes are in a beautiful carved wooden box with a velvet pouch bearing the words "Until We Meet Again At The Rainbow Bridge" embroidered in gold. He is here beside me where he had always wanted to be. I was his person, and he never ever let me forget that.
When the office called, I wasn't sure I could bear to go right away, then realized I wouldn't be able to stand myself if I didn't. He needed to come home to me. What I really couldn't bear was the thought of him being away from me for one more day.
I don't know how to thank you for your support. I've cried oceans, and there are more oceans left to cry. But right now, I think I am simply relieved to have BB home.
Thank you.
The heartbreak is incredible and you did take good care of him. Cats are not identical to each other in genetic makeup and biochemistry. That the others got through the cold only means that BB was different than the others - not that you failed him. Think of flu epidemics where not everyone gets sick and of those who did, not all succumbed. In fact in 1918 it was those who had the strongest immune systems who did succumb.
Be at peace. You gave him love and a good life.
Thanks. 
