It's happened all to fucking quickly for my liking. I woke this morning to find my beloved pussycat struggling to breath (although she hid it well, I had to catch her secretly catching her breaths!). I knew in my heart and my gut instincts (which you should always obey) told me it was today and not tomorrow or Monday.
It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in such a long time and the whole process was horrid although the Vet was the kindest and most understanding guy.
She went very quickly, even before he withdrew the needle. I think the hardest thing for me was watching her little body start sinking to the table and starting to flatten out soon after she died. It was very, very quick.
I'm having her cremated and returned to me within the week.
I'll miss the little delight that was the best little cat I've ever had. I'll miss her rather vocal dreams she had most nights causing me to wake up as she was so loud! Ha ha.
Still, it was the best thing for the both of us and weirdly, I think she knew that herself. Today was really unnerving when I put her in her catbox without the slightest struggle at all. That was so eerie. She is usually like a furry circular saw when I'm usually putting her in there and I have the wounds to prove it.
Rest in peace Doris, I know that Geff will be there waiting for you.
xx
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