Goodbye, Angie

Over the past several days, our 17-year old cat's condition began to deteriorate rapidly. Angie stopped eating, stopped drinking, and couldn't hold herself up anymore. Because my older daughter was planning to come home from college tomorrow to see Angie one more time, I tried to keep Angie alive for just a few more days, coaxing her to eat and drink, trying many different kinds of cat food, tuna, scrambled eggs, cheese, cream, kitty Ensure. But Angie wanted none of it.

I'd been putting Angie on one of Cabana's dog beds because she hasn't been able to get on or off the couch without help. Being low to the ground, I felt Angie had more freedom to move about if she wanted to. Because she enjoys laying in the sun, I'd put the dog bed in a sunny spot, then scoot it over every so often as the sun moved across the room.

On previous days, Angie spent most of the time sleeping, but yesterday, she seemed restless and unable to sleep. Every time I looked at her, she was in a different position on the cushion, and her eyes were open and glazed. I knew that she was uncomfortable, perhaps even in pain, although she never made a sound. I knew the day had come to put her down and that my daughter would understand we had to do what was best for Angie. I was grateful for a warm, sunny day so Angie could spend a little time outside on her last day.

Cabana seemed to sense something and spent some time keeping Angie company and watching over her. Or who knows, maybe she just wanted to lay in the sunshine, too. My hope has always been that Angie and Cabana would be snuggle buddies, and we got pretty close to that toward the end.

As we drove to the vet's office yesterday evening, I was grateful that we had the privilege and blessing of being able to make such a decision for our pet, and I hoped that we will be given the same opportunity with Cabana someday. To get to decide how your pet dies, painlessly and quickly, after a long and carefree life--what an honor that is. Of course, I am sad that we don't have Angie anymore and that my older daughter won't be able to see her when she comes home this weekend. The loss also seems to mark the end of both daughters' childhoods, since they'd had Angie almost their entire lives. That added significance makes the loss even stronger. But Angie's life ended with our final act of love toward her, and I find great comfort in that.

Rest in peace, lil' Ang. We will always remember you with love.