A blog post I've been dreading to write in four years....
Last night was the worst night of my life to top off a fortnight of sheer hell.
Last night, my beloved cat, Albert, passed away. I know some people will find this rather trivial and silly but for me, the pain is very real and the sense of loss in my chest sometimes seems so unbearable that it may burst.
About two weeks ago, it all started when Albert suddenly became all sad, lethargic and stopped eating and drinking resulting in a visit to the vet who diagnosed a cancerous tumour in his liver. Then started the stress of trying to get Albert to eat, drink and take his medication in hopes of trying to perk him up a little and prolong his life. About a week ago, Albert deteriorated almost overnight and the vet confirmed that despite the medication, his tumour was much more enlarged than it was one week prior. So begins another week of emotional highs and lows ending with my poor darling being so weakened that he could hardly move. The began the long evening of being with Albert in some hopes that our presence would make his passing easier for him. Knowing that I'm loosing him is bad but seeing him in such a weakened state killed me. The around 11.30pm, my poor baby passed away after a difficult evening with Meg, Michael and I sitting with him.
I've lost a very good friend. Albert was the first friend I ever had when I first moved to London four years ago, all bright eyed and dreamy.
I miss him. I can't stand the fact that he will not be curled up at the foot of my bed enjoying the heat from my electric blanket anymore. Or puking hairballs next to my face in the middle of the night. Or meowing on top of his lungs at 4am in the morning to demand food.
I really miss my Albert.
Last night, my beloved cat, Albert, passed away. I know some people will find this rather trivial and silly but for me, the pain is very real and the sense of loss in my chest sometimes seems so unbearable that it may burst.
About two weeks ago, it all started when Albert suddenly became all sad, lethargic and stopped eating and drinking resulting in a visit to the vet who diagnosed a cancerous tumour in his liver. Then started the stress of trying to get Albert to eat, drink and take his medication in hopes of trying to perk him up a little and prolong his life. About a week ago, Albert deteriorated almost overnight and the vet confirmed that despite the medication, his tumour was much more enlarged than it was one week prior. So begins another week of emotional highs and lows ending with my poor darling being so weakened that he could hardly move. The began the long evening of being with Albert in some hopes that our presence would make his passing easier for him. Knowing that I'm loosing him is bad but seeing him in such a weakened state killed me. The around 11.30pm, my poor baby passed away after a difficult evening with Meg, Michael and I sitting with him.
I've lost a very good friend. Albert was the first friend I ever had when I first moved to London four years ago, all bright eyed and dreamy.
I miss him. I can't stand the fact that he will not be curled up at the foot of my bed enjoying the heat from my electric blanket anymore. Or puking hairballs next to my face in the middle of the night. Or meowing on top of his lungs at 4am in the morning to demand food.
I really miss my Albert.