Goodbye, My Lady

I've known this post was coming, but I never wanted to write it. There's no way to say what I have to say without tears, and there's no way I can draw positivity out of it.

I know that death is a part of life, and I understand when I bring a pet into my life that she is likely to leave life before me. But "nature" and "reason" are incomprehensibly small next to the constant realization that I am never going to see Old Lady Cat again.

While she's been going downhill for some time, the final descent was steep indeed. She ate virtually nothing from Sunday until Tuesday, and although she seemed to rebound on Tuesday night, by Thursday she did not even wish to be petted, and turned her face to the wall.

Little Girl's daddy offered, as he did with Little Gray, to take her to the vet on this one last trip. I hope, if she could understand what happened, that Old Lady Cat would forgive me for letting him. I tried for so long to do what I thought my strong lady would want, but at the very end, I couldn't feel what that was.

I'm not writing this in my usual place, biking away and contemplating how to say things just right. I think there isn't any right way to handle a dying pet ... there is only what you can do. It doesn't ever feel like enough.

I just miss her so much. Fifteen years was a good, long time. But it wasn't enough, either.

Goodbye, my lady.