just because you know it's coming, doesn't mean you're ready for it
Two e-mails from Steve today tell the story.
this morning: "Sorry - no details today. I’m sure you’d have as hard of a time reading them as I would have typing them.
I’m taking the afternoon off to have Misha put to sleep. As tough of a decision as that is, I’ve never been so certain that a decision is the right one. I’ll add a few extra cuddles and hugs to her for you.
Me"
this afternoon: "Didn't have to euthanize...Because she died in my arms on the way to the vet.
I got home just after 1. She was in the studio. She'd struggled off of the folded brown blanket she lays on. I left the car running and got a blanket and wrapped her in it. There was no reason to put her in the cat carrier - she clearly wasn't going anywhere. She struggled just a bit. I cradled her in my lap while I drove, scruffing her with one hand and driving with the other. About half-way to the vet, I noticed that she didn't appear to be breathing, and she hadn't struggled even a bit since I turned onto Longford.
When I got out of the car, I knew. The vet confirmed.
When I called this morning to set up the euthanasia, they asked if I wanted to hold her when she went. I thought about it for the first time and said "no." Misha had other ideas, I guess. When I pulled into the garage, I could hear the furnace running. When I walked into the house the humidifier was running too. Within seconds of getting home, both shut down. And it's very quiet. Yes, I'm crying."
It's been a difficult few weeks. Steve did everything possible for her, and I'm grateful.
We're also both hurting like hell.
Rest in peace, little one. You gave us two decades of love, amusement, and a regular ration of annoyance--just as a cat should.
Haiku: for Misha
Grey hunter, I wish you
Warm sunlit fields of catnip;
Shrimp; and slow bunnies.