Been relatively silent because my cat died while I was holding her on Sunday in the middle of the snowstorm.
I found her in the room where she had been staying, off the bed where there was the litterbox, food, water etc., collapsed right at the door like she was trying to get out to the living room where I was. I picked her up and held her and she made weird noises and thrashed a little — not to get away from me — and then she was gone.
I think she was looking for me. I think she was hanging on waiting for me.
She’d been to the vet twice in the two days before, and she’d just declined so fast. I thought it was going to be kidney issues when I took her in, the way she lost weight.
Guess what?
It wasn’t.
Her kidney values were rock steady and really really strong for a kitty old enough to vote.
It turns out I did everything right, as soon as she got diagnosed. I gave her space to thrive, and she did. She was an anxious mess when she got to me, peeing more on the bed than in the litterbox, and she had that habit broken in days.
What killed her was something else, which was why I was trying a hail-mary. I can’t bring myself to regret trying to keep her alive instead of having euthanasia at a strange and scary veterinary hospital. She died at home with me.
I’m so sorry you suffered, darling. I love you. My sweet girl. Goodbye.
