Sunday, September 14, 2008
I'm sad. You would be too.
I could write today about the wonderful time I had in Phoenix at Creative Escape. I could write about the adventure I had driving up to see the Grand Canyon. I could write about lots of things. But today, today it's all about Charlie.
Charlie is my little girl kittycat. She's sixteen years old. And tomorrow I have to do the most awful thing to her that I could every think of doing. Charlie's "batteries are running low". That's how Simon puts it. But the truth is, is that Charlie is dying.
A few months ago the veterinarian found a mass in her stomach. They didn't know what it was, so they took x-rays and did some tests. They decided that it was a mass that couldn't be treated, it was terminal. We knew this, but thought we had more time.
About three weeks ago Charlie began to go down hill. She wouldn't eat her dried cat food so I had to feed her wet cat food by spoon. I mixed it with water and fed her bit by bit until she stopped wanting some. When I went to Creative Escape I told my husband that he needed to do this while I was gone.
When I came home from Creative Escape Charlie looked as if she took a turn for the worse. This past Thursday we called the Doctor and told them was had been going on. On Friday afternoon I brough Charlie to the veterinarian. I wrapped her in a towel and held her with one arm while I drove out the driveway. As we were pulling out she was so sweet, she looked up to me as if she was saying "I Love You", and I in return gave her a little kiss on the top of her head.
I brought her to the vet and waited for our appointment. They had to "fit" us in. Charlie and I finally saw the Doctor and he only had to take one look at Charlie and feel her stomach and he knew what was happening. She was dying. He gave me two options. One was sort of a Hospice care of cats where I would give her pain medication and steroids. The other, well we all know what that one is....
Charlie is home with me right now. We have pain medication that we have to give to her every twelve hours. We wanted to bring her home so that everyone would have one last weekend to spend with her, to love her and to let her know how much we love her.
And then on monday, I am on the one who has to say goodbye. I will be the one who will be with her when she is with the doctors. I will be the one familiar face that will be with her when she says goodbye. I'm the one who has decided that I don't want my kitty to be with strangers when she passes. And yes, I know it's my choice, but she shouldn't have to be all alone. I want her to know that I really did love her. After all the years of companionship that she has given to me, this is the one thing that I can do for her.
She will be missed.