lavenderspark | RIP Punkin (Reply)

This girl came to me as a birthday gift my junior year of high school. Her previous owners said she was too much trouble. She was so tiny when I got her. I litter trained her and weaned her off the artificial milk her previous owners were feeding her.

For almost twenty years she was my shadow. Her sweet little face would pop up any time I had food or appeared to have a blanket. She loved snuggling and burrowing under blankets.

The last few years her health steadily became worse. She was diagnosed with kidney disease and we knew she wouldn't have much time, but were hopeful that she would make it another year.

She still loved food and meowing at odd hours and would play with her toy mouse like a kitten. She was always on the lookout for a lap to keep warm or just for cuddles.

When she came back from her stay in the emergency vet, she was different. Slower, unsteady. Her heart and her kidneys started working against each other. She was no longer absorbing her sub-q fluids properly. Her body just couldn't process them any more. She lost the ability to do much of anything on her own.

I spent my nights helping her on and off the bed so she could still snuggle with me. We had to put towels in our laps so she could sit with us during the day.

But through it all, her eyes never lost their bright light. She could no longer meow above a whisper, but she still begged for food whenever I was cooking.

It made my decision so much harder. I could still see life in that tiny face. But she could barely walk and couldn't absorb her fluids. If I let her go on her own it would mean dying of dehydration. That is an awful death I don't wish upon anyone.

I made the decision to euthanize her on Monday morning. I felt it looming over me. There were moments I looked at her and wanted to take it back. But then I had to wash her face because she wasn't able to or watch her stumble and fall because her back legs were too weak to support her.

I didn't want her to suffer or feel pain more than she already did. With kidney disease, high blood pressure, a heart murmur, arthritis, and possible diabetes, a natural death would not have been pleasant for her.

But on Monday morning when I tried to guide her into her crate, she fought. She never fights her crate. She hates it, but she's always gone in with minor guidance. I think she knew what was coming. When we got into the exam room and they gave her the IV, she tried everything to get down/away. She came to me pawing at me, meowing her tiny whisper. It took everything I had to not pick her up and go home.

Even now I question whether or not she was really ready. If maybe she had more time in her. I took that choice away. I can only hope that I did right by her and that she's at peace.

I still look for her sweet little face to come around the corner. I struggle with going to sleep at night without her curled up against my knees. I walk past where her food dish used to be and my heart hurts.

She was my comfort when I lost Circe, but now my house is empty. For the first time in my life I don't have a pet. No furry body to bury my face in and cry. No kitty purrs to comfort me. And I'm struggling.