Last year, I was prepared for Freddie to die. this year, I’d made peace with the fact that he was going to live forever. I liked that idea.
He was up and stealing food from the other cats this morning, so it was a shock when the Boyfriend found him limp and barely breathing this evening. I still feel guilty that I came home and took a nap instead of doing Kitty Roll Call. I had no idea that Freddie was dying until Boyfriend came into the bedroom, crying. I know Freddie would have still died if I’d found him 45 minutes earlier but I can’t help but feel bad.
I also feel bad that I forgot to make Freddie’s favorite dinner yesterday. I was planning to put a turkey in the crockpot but forgot yesterday. Instead, I made it today. Freddie wasn’t alive by the time we finally sat down to eat tonight. Freddie, I ate some extra turkey for you, my little friend.
We have six more kitties in the house right now — five perms and one temp. I can’t stand the idea of going through at least five more kitty deaths. My soul wasn’t built for that kind of pain.
I definitely wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt when they brought Freddie in right before they put him to sleep. I collapsed on the bench in the exam room and just sobbed. He just looked so…helpless. So weak. So scared. Before that moment, I’d been all business — <i>OK, we need to go sit with him while we figure out what to do. Let’s start calling clinics and figure out who is still open. We need to do this. We don’t want him to suffer anymore.</i> So it was hard to finally have to actually slow down and face the situation and realize that the cat was about to die. And that we were making the choice to have him die. Watching him die was just….horrible. There’s no other way to describe it. I cry just thinking about it.
My heart wasn’t built for such heartache. I’m going to cuddle up with Bedroom Cat now and give her some extra love tonight.
