(no subject)

[crippledestella]

My cat is dying. I know I have been saying that for a while now, but he really is. Ijust picked him up and he weighs nothing. He is just skin and bones. And now his eyes are infected too. I'm starting to wonder how long it will be until we have to put him to sleep. I had such hope for the steroids, but they didn't work. His liver is slowly fading away, just like him. I took some photos of him the other night and a short video clip. I'm so afraid I'm going to come home one day and find him laying there, not breathing. He has always been a fighter though. I still remember when he came home one day with a huge cut in his ear from a fight with the neighbor's dog. He still has a little bit missing to this day. I remember all the birds and chipmunks he would bring us. He never did that at this house though. I think he spent a lot of time in the woods behind our house. The past year though he has just been louging around, begging to come inside. The good part is that we have let him in lately because it has been really cold, and we all know this will be his last year, month, week, day? Even though he is a small part of my life, he has been there for fourteen years, slinking around my legs, scratching my hands, nibbling my toes, purring when petted, chasing rabbits, jumping from brick walls, and landing on his feet every time. I will miss him. I will miss him more than I know.

It's odd that his death should come at a time when I'm losing so many other things. But he will be the greatest loss of all. Because to the living, death is loss. The absence of that person or animal is all we feel. Death creates big, empty holes, leaving us to find ways to fill them, if that is possible. The holes usually just get smaller. Always you feel like part of the world is missing, because you lost something or someone, and unlike your keys, you won't find them.