I’m attempting to go about my routine with only a few tears here and there.
The reality is that there is a space that is left empty that my other pets cannot fill. Because they are not my kitty.
It’s progress that I’m not pushing. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
Focusing on the good and not the bad.
Focusing on life and not death.
Focusing on the here and now.
My cat has lost weight recently and has not been eating.
We took her to the vet.
Diagnosis: kidney (or renal) failure.
Prognosis: not good.
There are things we can do to make her comfortable: give her fluids, change her diet, maintain low-stress environment.
But, ultimately, she’s dying. She could have months. Or a year.
Yet, somehow, I’m grateful.
Grateful that I know so we can not take her for granted. Grateful I can love her more. Grateful for the years she has given us.
This doesn’t mean it’s easy. It’s never easy to watch a pet die. I’ve held two of my dogs in my arms when they were dying. And I knew a little ahead of time it was coming.
The worst part is the helplessness of it all. Not being able to help. To make her better. To do anything. Except hold her and love her and cherish her.
While she’s here, we’ll make the most of it.
Love her till death and beyond.
We love you, dearest Emerald.