The Last Day in a Life

I had thought to keep these pages blank. This blog was created as an answer to a technical problem with another blog. I'm not one to put myself out there, especially on the web. Oh, I might have had some thoughts deep in my mind about recording my travels. (hence the title). I've had some interesing travels and at some point, I'll jot them down.

Who knew that my first journey to record wouldn't be about some exotic location? It would be an inner trip to my wounded heart. Something happened today that will forever impact me. It will cause little ripple in my visable world, most people will be unaware as I keep it to myself. Even if told, few will realize the impact upon my world.

My heart is broken today.
I made the decision to release my cat from her life.

















Suki, my furry angel has been by my side for over 15 years. She was adopted as an adult cat, along with her sister, Ming. The couple who had them had screened many applicants. When we visited, we had to pass certain tests. Suki was the bolder of the two, coming around, sniffing us, checking us out. Ming was shy. She would dart when people moved. I sat quietly in the chair and watched her. She hopped up on the arm, sniffed the offered hand, then rubbed her head against my palm. Adoption set. Sadly, we were only to have Ming three more years, before she succumbed to bladder cancer.

But there was Suki, regal Balinese, sweeping tail, bright blue eyes, and strident cry (as only Siamese breeds can). As relationships have come and gone, this fuzzball has been constant. Dubbed "Miss Pantaloons" due to her furry haunches, she would wend her way around my legs as greeting, would bitch with the best of us when upset, and would hop up onto my chest every evening for a head rub. A long sleek, dark brown paw would reach up to my cheek until I held her gaze.

Her health has been steadily failing. We had a scare this Summer, when she became lethargic and wouldn't eat. We found that her kidneys were weakening, but with constant fluids, she'd live a while longer. Each week, I inserted an IV needle into the fleshy part of her silky neck. Each week, she would be pissed at me and hide under the bed to pout. Each evening, she'd pounce back up on my chest, paw patting cheek, letting me know that she'd forgiven me.

Over this past weekend, she took a big dip - wasn't eating, barely drinking, and all she'd do was sleep. I kept checking her slowed breaths, part scared, part hopeful that if she had to go, that she'd do it at home, in her sleep. She rallied into Sunday night, but I knew that I had to make the call to the vet. On the drive there today, it was sunny. She seemed to bask in the warm rays shining through her carrier.

I fully expected the vet to see what I saw - a tiring soul - but, no. It was a kind assurance of "Let's run some test. She'll be ok. Go grab a coffee.". With a bit of lightness in my step, I left the office, ran some errands, wondering at how lucky we were to get the extra time.

In returning to the office, the faces of the staff told me a different story. The vet came out with her chart, showed me how my dear fuzzball was off the charts in her crits. She was in kidney failure. They could keep her at the hospital for 3-4 days, flush fluids through her and then I might enjoy a few more months with her until she had another episode.

In a kind voice, the vet asked "It's very expensive, do you want to know the costs?"
Inside, I was screaming…."No! Cost doesn't matter. It's my four-legged love"
Outside, calm, with tears falling, I asked about the prognosis. She again stated that it would be expensive and that they weren't sure how long she would have.

I hadn't been brave enough to hold Ming when she passed. Had lost my childhood cat only a few years prior and remembered the pain. Knowing that I needed to be there until the end, I voiced my wishes.

It was an atrium room, with the sun shining down. Suki was placed in my lap. A needle full of pink fluid entered her system, enough to make a normal cat fall asleep quickly. But Suki was no ordinary cat. She was a tiger, a fighter.

They tried to set up another needle as an IV, but she growled as if from deep within her soul. She looked up at me, as if wanting to stay for a bit longer. Another needle to her belly, then she was gone, heart stopped.

They left me alone with her for a bit, as I cradled her and cried. Sobbed really ~ I'm not a pretty crier. This was the last time I'd feel this silky being against my chest. As I lay her back down, I noticed some of her fur on the floor. The fur that was shaved for the IV. I scooped it up and tucked it away. My last memory.

I thought of the decision during the long weekend nights while I held in her sleep.
I had already made the choice when I made the appointment, made the long drive.
Nearly faltered when I saw those brilliant blue eyes looking up at me.
Part of me died with the passing of that furry angel...
~ and I will never be the same again.

The summer sun is fading as the year grows old
And darker days are drawing near
The winter winds will be much colder
Now you're not here

I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky
And one by one they disappear
I wish that I was flying with them
Now you're not here

Like the sun through the trees you came to love me
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away

A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes
As if to hide a lonely tear
My life will be forever autumn
'Cause you're not here...