Faded Angel with Ragged Wings

When we got home on Monday night, we thought she was going to die on us right there. She was old, and had not been in the best of health in the last year or so, so I can't say it was a shock, but when you're used to being greeted at the door by a high pitched meow, and you come home to silence it's unnerving.

We spent the next couple of days making sure one of us was home at all times, never leaving her alone. She kept fading away, but never quite came to the end. She had just enough strength to drink a bit of water. Food was out of the question.

This morning, her hind legs all but useless, and her front legs having no fine motor control left, we had the hard talk.

It was time.

After a bit of discussion, we decided to try to have it done at home. I found Dr. Lori Gibson on line and asked her to come and put my cat to sleep. It took all I had to not start bawling over the phone as I made arrangements.

I took Sarah to work and returned home quickly, spending most of the time petting Percy, telling her that she was a good kitty. At about 10:30 Dr. Gibson came in and did what had to be done. She was courteous, compassionate, and excellent at her job. I hope no one reading this has need for her services any time soon, but if you do I highly recommend her.

Right after the vet left I called Sarah and started bawling as soon as I heard her voice. We talked for a few minutes, and then I hid in our bedroom and sobbed uncontrollably for awhile. After that, I went outside, and dug a grave.

It's weird digging a grave. I dug one for a fish when I was about seven, but that doesn't count so much I think (three scoops with a hand trowel, and I was done). This was frelling work, but work mixed up with a weird numbness that made it seem remote.

After that was done, I wrapped Percy up in an old towel, and placed the mouse that died on our back porch this morning in with her.

The mouse was weird. It wasn't there last night when I was taking garbage out, but there it was this morning. It's as if nature was presenting a gift for the once mighty hunter. I don't believe in the supernatural, but rather then tempt fate, I placed the offering with the body, and reverently placed the bundle in the grave.

Burying takes a lot less time then digging, so my work was short. I used an old cement porch support as a grave marker, and surrounded the grave with stones. I don't know why, it just seemed like the thing to do.

I now have to adjust to life post cat. Aside from my first nine months in Portland, I've never not had a pet. We're going to wait a while before we get another cat, to let Percy be mourned properly. It's going to be hard, but we'll make it.