Among the three vet visits last week was taking Smokey in for her annual senior wellness exam. Smokey is our old cat who I've had since I was in... middle school? I think so. She's about 18, I think.
Deep down I knew Smokes wasn't doing well. She has been blind for about two years now, so she had really stopped leaving our bonus room - she sat on the couch practically 24 hours a day. But when I'd feed the cats each morning and night she would hop down to her bowl and eat. The last week or so she hadn't, she had actually been sleeping under one of the beds in a room nearby. I took her in on Thursday and told the vet that I didn't think she had been eating or drinking much, that her behavior had changed, and some other things. The vet wanted to do blood work, but said it could be something treatable, like her kidneys or her thyroid, or diabetes, or something. On Friday (right after Matt and Melissa arrived for their weekend visit, of course!) the vet called back with the blood worl. Smokey's liver is failing, and we're going to have to put her to sleep tomorrow (Monday) afternoon.
Even though I know this is whats best, I can't help feeling horrible. I'm dreading tomorrow. Every day this weekend has been bad because every day I think 'In one more day Smokey won't be here anymore'. And even though its a pet, and nowhere near on the same lines as say... a brother, its bringing up all the same feelings, and I don't think I was particularly ready to deal with them again.
Smokey's had a good, long life though. We rescued her as a stray and she was terrified of us for a long time. After a while, she would sleep on my pillow at night and sit on the back of the couch behind your head. When I married Brian I think she started to like him better, which was always a sore point. She enjoyed living with Wendy and I in Boston, with us in Cleveland, and then in Durham. She always was a prima donna and loved to be the only cat, so she was pretty disappointed when we got Alton (and then Cherry and then Beamish). But she loved to sit with us when we watched TV upstairs and to eat any of my leftover ice cream.
Right now she's hiding under our bed, where she's been almost all weekend. Tomorrow I'm going to take Matt and Melissa to the airport, stop in at work for a while, and then come back home to spend some time with her before we take her to the vet.
And then totally cry my eyes out for the fiftieth time this week.
Will write more uplifting posts later. We finally have internet access at home (!) so I can blog whenever I want!