Yesterday Ernie called the vet and got some nausea medication for Annie to see if that would get her to eat. Owen got the pill down her no problem, he's got the touch. It didn't help though. She lost all interest in food and would go look for water but barely drink. She started peeing in the bathroom and was wobbly when she tried to stand up. We agreed. It was time.
Today she was barely moving or responding when she laid in her her little pod. Every so often she would get restless and stand up and walk around. I remember when my sister was dying. She did the same thing, she'd want to sit up, then lay down, then sit up, but no comfort to be found whatever she did. Ernie called the vet again this morning and they said we could bring her in at two. I texted the boys and Owen wanted to go. Leo, being a good student, didn't have his phone on, but I knew he didn't want to go anyway. Ernie called the school to get Owen out early and they said since he's used x number of sick days that he would need a note. We forgot to get one from the vet's office because, well, we weren't at our best. So he'll be marked truant. I don't know if I care. Should I care?
Annie was so frail and she didn't cry a bit when we picked her up and wrapped her in a towel. And let me tell you, Annie ALWAYS protested being picked up. I held her close as we drove and she purred faintly. I couldn't hear it, but I could feel it. The people at All Creatures were lovely, kind, and understanding.
It was really hard.
She felt like the last connection to my parents that I had. I know that's silly, and I'll always be connected to them, but she was the last living part of their life that was still with me. Of course I have my sister, but that's different. Annie was part of their life at the end of their lives, and so it brings back some of that hurt.
I remind myself that feeling pain like this is only the inverse of the love we had, but damn. I'm going to miss that grumpy little cat with the tattered ear.