Cat is nearing her expiration date. I already wrote her story long ago so I don't need to write it again.
These last months have been very hard on both of us. Her kidneys are failing so she gets subQ fluids and lots of pills. She doesn't like it. I was a coward about the subQ at first. It took me a week, 3 tries and a vicious jab to my own finger before I could get it started. Ultimately I was able to overcome the squeamishness by deciding that it was actually loving to make my girl more comfortable.
This time, there's not as much guilt to go with the grief. I haven't cheaped out on vet care. I've done my best. I haven't taken care of her perfectly, but I've done okay.
The places I suspect I'll miss her most is in her permanent spot on the side of my bed. I'll miss her when I take a bath, sitting by the tub and begging me to dribble water from my hands while she drinks. Many times I've wanted to push her away and just relax in the bath...but I don't because I don't want the guilt.
I notice more and more that her eyes are dialated. I think that means pain. She eats but she's thin. She still wants to be petted and she shoves her muzzle into my belly.
We're going to the vet again on Monday for bloodwork and Dr. Saltzer's opnion. Shit.
It might be easier if I believed that animals went to heaven. That God loved them as innocents and collected them in the same way he collects and resurrects little babies. I know I won't care when I get to heaven, but oh God, I wish I could have that comfort here.
But today my tears are breaking as hard as the rain is coming down outside my window. Shit oh shit. On March 24, it will be 4 years since Mommie has been gone...and I've forgotten her. I never look for her any more. I never call for her and she was with me for 10 years. And what sucks is that, when I do remember her, I only remember the crappiness of her last month with me--not the 9 1/2 years of petting and cuddles.
It's like with Dad. I remember the horror of the board and care more than I remember all of the walks and laughter. If I didn't have photographs, the good stuff would be long gone.
I can't believe that Jesus would leave heaven to come to this world. Walking around in a decaying bag of meat, in a world perverted by evil and death. I guess that's what love is.