As sad as it is to lose a loved one, the pain and anguish that I went through especially leading up to her death has almost completely disappeared. I am sad of course as she was the most important thing in my life, and rightfully so.
I would say that as you watch your special cat grow skinny and stop doing the things they once did...that part is way harder in my opinion than the actual death itself.
I spent weeks crying about the potential that my cat was old and might not live much longer. I did everything I could for her, and then some. And I'd do it all over again if I had her back in my life again.
I brought her to the vet on Thursday the 29th because she was breathing heavy and the vet told me that she had about 20% lung capacity left and that I might have a few weeks, a month at tops left. To hear that news is devastating because all of the sudden, there's a time table and everything becomes extremely serious. And sad.
On Friday she was walking around, not eating much, but drinking. She was walking just as she always did. The thought of actually calling the vet to put her down and then think of having to hold her there while they gave her the needle...that scenario played in my head over and over. How can I put her down knowing she can walk and drink? But knowing it's difficult to breathe...how can I let her suffer? Terrible situation to be in.
I sat and talked to her all day about old times and how much I love her. She was not herself that day as she stopped meowing and peed for the first time outside of her litterbox twice that day. I knew it was close and almost called the vet to come out at 8:00pm. But then, she seemed to get all better when I told her my family was coming out. When they got there and saw her, she snuck back to my bathroom and laid there like she always did. I had told her a few times during the night that it was ok for her to go and that I understood, and loved her so much, and asked how I could go on without her in my life anymore. I was a huge mess.
I went to talk to my family for 30 seconds, came back and she was gone. I checked her litterbox...not there. I checked the food dish...not there. Went into my room and she was in my closet. Circling. Broke my heart. Then she tried to go under my bed. I moved a few things out of the way and she went under, right under where I sleep. She circled a few more times and was making noises I think. I was sobbing as I petted her and told her it was alright. Then she died in my hands.
I think she waited until people saw her and then waited for me to leave and she went off to die on her own. I feel so sad, yet so fortunate that she did not suffer for long even though her breathing was labored. I feel so proud that she was with me for so long and all of the times that we spent together, just existing in each others company. I am so glad I did not have to make that call and that it's almost like she heard me and knew that it was ok to go and be free.
I miss her so much, but at the same time I am so proud to have had her in my life for so long.
Here are some pictures that I took over the years. So strange how such a little creature can make all of the difference in our lives. Goodbye Elsa. I will never forget about you.