Newt
She has good days and not-so-good days.
I noticed on Monday that she was getting dehydrated, so I went down to the clinic and picked up a bag of fluids for her. I had a chance to talk with Dots about her, which made me feel a bit better about letting her go when the time comes.
The fluids are helping her--she has perked up slightly--but I know it isn't enough to reverse the flow of time. She is having trouble keeping her food down. Each day seems subtly more difficult for her, yet she remains a bright and cheerful little cat.
As I got ready for work this afternoon, Newt moved from her place at the window to curl herself on the bed. I passed to and fro through the room, pausing to pet her and hear her steady purr.
A line from a book I read long ago kept running through my mind. In a discussion of purring, the author observed that although it was generally thought purring denoted contentment, cats sometimes purr when they are in distress. "Some have been known to purr while they wait for death."
I stroked her skinny body--it hurts my heart to feel the sharpness of her bones under her still-lush black fur. I rubbed her cool ears then pressed a kiss on the top of her head. I told her how happy we were that she had come to live with us. "Mommy loves you, Newt. You're a good kitty." I couldn't bring myself to verbalize what was in my heart--If you need to go before I get back home, it's okay--I understand...
There is a bitter-sweetness in these last days of our long journey together. I am glad to have her back in the house, back near me for stolen moments of companionship, the quiet, fierce love that still connects us. Fifteen years is a long life for a cat and I can't feel she has been cheated. I suppose it speaks to what a fine cats she is that I wish for more time.
Her passing will mark the beginning of the end of an era, as our first Homer cats leave us, taking with them bits of our own youth. They will continue to live warm in our memories, as surely as the hidden timbers of our house will forever carry the marks of their youthful claws.
I noticed on Monday that she was getting dehydrated, so I went down to the clinic and picked up a bag of fluids for her. I had a chance to talk with Dots about her, which made me feel a bit better about letting her go when the time comes.
The fluids are helping her--she has perked up slightly--but I know it isn't enough to reverse the flow of time. She is having trouble keeping her food down. Each day seems subtly more difficult for her, yet she remains a bright and cheerful little cat.
As I got ready for work this afternoon, Newt moved from her place at the window to curl herself on the bed. I passed to and fro through the room, pausing to pet her and hear her steady purr.
A line from a book I read long ago kept running through my mind. In a discussion of purring, the author observed that although it was generally thought purring denoted contentment, cats sometimes purr when they are in distress. "Some have been known to purr while they wait for death."
I stroked her skinny body--it hurts my heart to feel the sharpness of her bones under her still-lush black fur. I rubbed her cool ears then pressed a kiss on the top of her head. I told her how happy we were that she had come to live with us. "Mommy loves you, Newt. You're a good kitty." I couldn't bring myself to verbalize what was in my heart--If you need to go before I get back home, it's okay--I understand...
There is a bitter-sweetness in these last days of our long journey together. I am glad to have her back in the house, back near me for stolen moments of companionship, the quiet, fierce love that still connects us. Fifteen years is a long life for a cat and I can't feel she has been cheated. I suppose it speaks to what a fine cats she is that I wish for more time.
Her passing will mark the beginning of the end of an era, as our first Homer cats leave us, taking with them bits of our own youth. They will continue to live warm in our memories, as surely as the hidden timbers of our house will forever carry the marks of their youthful claws.
