Sunday night we had to do one of the saddest things I think a person ever does. Our black cat, Jenny, has been fighting a battle with cancer for four months now. For two days she wasn't eating or drinking and was hiding from us, coming out now and then for pets and cuddles. Last night she was laying on the landing of the stairs and couldn't get up to walk away from us even when we were having to step over her. This is not how Jenny normally acted.
I'm sorry if this is going to be too much information, but sometimes you just have to pour your heart out. I don't do this very often, so please bear with me or just read something else. I would certainly understand.
|Jenny in her favorite spot looking out of the window.|
She even let us pick her up which she never does. So we knew it was time. Well, Joe knew it was time. I didn't want to believe it.
We picked her up and put her in her carrier. Usually she fights us and scratches us when we do this. Last night she just lay there and let us. She cried a little, but that's all.
Because it was a Sunday night we had to take her to the University of Pennsylvania Veterinary School Emergency Room. I took what I thought would be a short cut and ended up driving 30 minutes longer than I should have. Joe sat in the back with Jenny. She usually cries and puts up a fuss the whole time she is in the car. Last night there wasn't a peep out of her. *sigh* We knew she was very sick.
The people at the Emergency Room were wonderful. So nice and kind. Joe told them what was going on and asked for her to be euthanized. They gave her a brief examination and agreed with our vet, Dr. Yuhas, that this was the kind thing to do. We opted to be with her when she went. I was petting her and she was looking at Joe and purring.
We decided to not bring her remains home, so they gave us a clay medallion with her name and paw prints on it. So kind. We had to bring it home and bake it, which we did last night.
She was a beautiful and sweet cat who was inseparable from Joe. They adored each other. I know this grief too shall pass, but for right now it really, really hurts.