Bionic Perry's Hideout: Feeling Helpless

My cat is dying, and there's nothing I can do about it.

This is the place in life where one asks oneself, "do I consider pets to be disposal?" The answer for me, is no.

I don't call my cat "baby" or myself "daddy" (I think that's silly). But when you've spent 13 years living with the little furry being (who squawks hello to you, who runs to the door and greets you when you come home, who tactfully and purposefully ignores you when you really want to play with her (that's an art), who nestles in your lap while you're watching tv, or who nestles next to your feet or stomach when you're sleeping), it's hard to feel heartless.

Spot likes beer!

Spot was Tanya's cat, barely a year old when I first petted her furry head. She started to get to know me when her owner and I started dating. A year later Tanya and I moved in together, and suddenly Spot had a new roommate. She has always been a bit aloof, more independent than our other two cats (Exie and Cassie). But she has her charms and her ways. She's cuddly when she wants to be, and affectionate in her own way. Over the years she's grown much more affectionate.

Mine was the first lap she ever sat on, so I guess that makes me special in her eyes.

After we had to put her sister Cassie down last October, Tanya and I hoped to have Spot for a couple of more years. Now it looks like it will only be a few months.

She's suffering from kidney failure. Last week she had started to barely touch her food. We took her into the vet last Thursday, got some pills for a bladder infection and got the bad news about the kidney failure, but with the hope that she might still last a year or so.
Well, despite the medication, she has failed to eat anything. I put out a seven course dinner for her every morning, and refresh some of the dishes every evening. Barely a nibble here, a nibble there. And then she throws it up a few hours later. Her system can't digest anything anymore.
She's wasting away, and there's nothing we can do.

Early this morning, around 2 am, I woke up and found her in Tanya's studio, lying in her favourite window. She was barely moving, so tired from the heat, so weary from lack of food. I sat and petted her, and couldn't help but cry, knowing that she was going to die soon.

We've made an appointment for Friday evening to put her to sleep. It's hard to think she'll be gone in two days. I came home from work today and just sat with her. I can't think about it too much. Even writing this is hard. But it's for the best for her.

Pictures from last Christmas: