The time has come...

As I sit here, with blurry vision, and tears streaming down my face despite me knowing, and having known for quite a while now that this day was coming, I can't shake the nausea building up... I have to put down our cat. His time has come.

He chose us on Sept. 15, 1995 at a little pet shop.  He climbed our sweatshirts and started purring in Hubby's neck on that day, and continue to do so daily except for the past week... Before leaving for Punta Cana, I had asked a friend to come and stay with him while we went away.  He didn't have to be in isolation at the vet's, he would be in his things, he would get his pills twice a day and  I knew our friend would take care of him.  She did.

When we got back, his skinniness got me.  He hasn't been big lately, but he was even bonier than before we left.  I've noticed he wasn't eating much and was very fussy about his it all. He hasn't touched his kibbles since we've been back.  His wet food, the good one from the vet, he didn't eat much either.  Since I wanted him to eat, I gave him a can of Fancy Feast.  He ate some, but mostly licked the sauce and left the tuna flakes. I tried another can, a paté, and that one he liked and eventually ate.

Since we've been back, he has only slept for one hour with us, and that is because I got him to bed with us.  I've been trying every night, and he jumps off right away.  He wants to be in his bed, in the office, by the patio door.  We had to move his litter box upstairs.  Between his bad hips, him being weak and not eating much, he wasn't making his way to his box.  Since it's been in the living room, he's been using it.  He even has a hard time getting out of it... it's sad to see him being so frail.

I knew he was reaching the end of his time with us.  He was actually on borrowed time for the last two years or so.  His vet had felt a big mass in his tummy and gave his cortisone.  It seemed to work since the mass went away.  I went in this morning, to have her professional opinion since he doesn't do much except get up to drink and sleep.  His weight did go down almost one pound.  For us one pound is nothing but a good crap, but for a cat, one pound is a lot.  What I like about our vet is how open and direct she is.  She asked me what I wanted to do or rather when I would want to do it.  His mass is back, and is really big.  She increased his meds, so that he's not in pain.

On Friday, we will be bringing him for his last visit to the vet.  His time has come.  She did offer to keep him until I'm ready to do something with him, but the thought of him in a freezer is just too much, so I'll take him with us after his passing and will bury him.  I have a place for him.

I can't believe that we've reached that point yet, as I look at this picture of him as a little kitten... he's been with me all along for the past 18 years... I'm losing a friend, a good friend, a companion who loved me despite my short comings, my size, my talking too much...

He's been such a good cat, my cat, my Tobi...