The angel of death comes to my house tomorrow at 4pm.
I called a home euthanasia veterinarian this morning. Masky did not get up at all last night. When I got up this morning she tried to follow me into the bathroom, but ended up falling in the hall and couldn’t get up. She drinks water if I put it in front of her but refuses to eat. I set her in the kitty box so she could do her business, gave her more pain meds, and am awaiting a call. I’m not going to school today. I don’t care what bad grades I get on incomplete final papers. I’m saying good-bye to my best friend of 20 years and nothing else matters.
Today when I got home it didn’t look like Masky had gotten up off my bed since I left in the morning, and when I laid down next to her she didn’t stir like she normally does. She is so weak she can barely get up. I carried her to the kitchen for dinner but she went down to the floor when I set her next to her bowl so I brought her back to my bed. I have placed her food and water bowl next to my bed along with a shallow pan of kitty litter. I just gave her some pain medication to help ease her soreness. She is purring on me, but just barely.
I know her time is coming. I am holding onto her for one of our last nights together.
(Source: thelenaubr, via moclobemide)
