Apr 11, 2009 14:56
The vet says his numbers have not improved, and will only get worse, and that, while I could take him home for a day or so, the kindest thing to do, if I've thought about it and am ready for it, is to put him to sleep.
So I'm going out to visit with him for the last time. I hope he recognizes me and purrs. That would mean so much to me. I hope I'm doing the right thing. I don't want to hurry him out of the world before he's ready to go. If they had animal hospice, where he could be on painkillers, that would be perfect. But the choices seem to be to let him suffer until he can't take it any more, or to put him to sleep before his suffering gets too great.
I was doing all right until I called my Dad, whose sympathy and regret and affection for me and my kitty was too much for me, and I started to cry. I'm not sure I can stop. I'm not sure there's any reason to try.
He was as good a cat as there ever was, and my companion and comfort for twelve years. I will miss him with everything I do.
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