she's gone

I cried all the way to the vet's. Robert and I arrived just seconds apart. I realized there was no way to hold back the tears today, so I just went with them, hoping I wouldn't frighten the other clients. Kris and Matt (receptionist and vet-tech) took us immediately into a room, where the bed they'd prepared was even softer and fluffier than Juliet has usually been treated to. Kris and Matt spent a long time talking to us.

Then Dr. Randy came in and we discussed the situation. Juliet's eye was out of control. She was clearly becoming more and more miserable, and there really wasn't anything left to do. Despite the purring and eating today, it was time.

Randy gave her a sedative, and Robert and I stroked her ears and kept her covered up so she'd stay warm. She got very quiet. Then Randy and Matt found a vein and injected her and it was all over very quickly.

We had hugs all around, and Stephanie, another person who works there, came to visit. Stephanie is quite an artist and drew a charming picture of a black cat sitting in a field, free to enjoy the sunshine, watch birds and butterflies go by, and smell the meadow flowers.

Kris came back and talked to us and stroked Juliet's little body. We kept stroking her too (her ears were so soft), and Robert brushed her one last time with her favorite brush. We were there nearly three hours, but finally, it was time to go.

When we came home, I gathered up piles of cat towels from all over the house and put them by the washing machine. We threw out the cat litter and medicines and cleaned up the one-stop shopping cat station in my bathroom. I moved the little stair case out of the way so that I can get in and out of bed more easily.

And then I composed the following note, which I sent to a cat-notify distribution list:


RIP Little kitty
Just a note to let you know that my beloved little kitty, Juliet, died today. She was 21; I had the privilege of living with her for her last 18 years. She had many health issues which we managed to keep under control. Up until recently, she led a happy and care-free life.

Last December, she was diagnosed with a nasty and aggressive form of mouth cancer. She fought hard. She also allowed us to treat her and keep her comfortable, enduring what many cats would not. Even last night, knowing the end was near, I questioned whether we were all ready. But this morning, I realized that we needed to be, and I feel that our final gift to her was right and good.

Most of you know that she had a tremendously big personality and managed to charm all but the most reticent of the people she met. We will miss her deeply.

Thank you to each one of you who has touched our lives in some way, either by caring for her, or saying a kind word, or giving her a scratch on the head, or asking after her, especially recently. She and I appreciated all your good thoughts, both those expressed and those sent more quietly.

I cannot close without expressing the highest praise for her doctor, Randy Caviness, and his staff, especially Matt the wonder vet-tech, and Kris the amazingly compassionate receptionist. Their care kept us both going longer than I would have thought possible.

With gratitude for many things, including a life well and fully lived,
-- liz