Thursday, April 12, 2012
Today I looked in the mirror with tears all over my face. I'd just cuddled with our kitty for the last time. She was calm and quiet - having lost her sweet voice months ago to whatever this mystery respiratory ailment has been.
My husband and I have been struggling with when to make the right decision and when was the right time to make it. When to decide on her quality of life. She was down to just 4 pounds from her normal weight of about 8. Her nose so clogged that she had to breathe through her mouth 24 hours a day.
She'd suffered through a litany of treatments - different antibiotics for months, nose drops, aspirating her, giving her fluids via needle, appetite stimulants, high fat recovery food. We'd had her tested for everything - even diabetes.
We made the call this morning and I stayed with her through it.
Home now, I've pulled out the cleaning supplies to clean up her favorite resting spots - the sunny window sills covered in snot, her food bowl full of expensive prescription food.
But because I'm removing the signs of the horrible sickness that took her. The trail it left reminding me of how she suffered and how we couldn't fix it. Couldn't even diagnose it.
As I'm scrubbing, the percolating of the coffee pot sounds like her labored purring.
Bye bye, baby. I know we did the right thing. We'll miss you.