I wasn’t ready to let her go. On my hour long drive to my parents’ house when I got out of work this morning, I wondered if we made the decision too soon. What if she will get better? What if she just needs a little more time? What if… what if… what if…
And then I saw her.
She was weak, unable to fend for herself and completely dependent. An eleven year old cat shouldn’t need help moving from one room to another; let alone across the couch. Despite my mother’s best efforts to make sure she had food and water in front of her, you could tell she wasn’t eating as much as she use to. She had lost a lot of weight in such a small amount of time. It was pretty evident under her gorgeous, long fur.
I knew it was time. She knew it was time. We all took our turns holding her, giving her the love she deserved and then made our way to the vet’s. We did our goodbye routine once more and then I held onto her while the vet explained the procedure. Then it was time.
I lay my beloved feline on the table and knelt down, stroking the fur on her head as she calmly looked back and forth between my parents and me. The vet told us she was beginning injection and for a moment, Dimples seemed scared. She locked eyes with me, and I could see her relax. Whispering ‘I love you’ to her, she held my gaze as she passed away peacefully.
The tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to grasp what had happened. This beautiful cat who had been in my life since I was eight was now gone. We took out time grasping what had happened and then slowly left through the side door, leaving her behind.
Even though it pains me to say this, I knew we were doing the right thing from the moment I saw her. My parents did everything they could to help her get better, but it was her time to go. I know she’s in a better place and no longer suffering.
I love you, Dimples, AKA ‘baby girl’, ‘princess’, ‘Dimps’, ‘pretty girl’.
August 2002 – March 2014