It occurred to me this morning that today is the one month anniversary of Moira’s death. As the blog is now running again I can post this, which was sent out to some people on that day:
After a long bout with old age and a short battle with cancer Moira died this morning just before 10am. She would have been 20 in July.
I came home yesterday and, finding her in a bad way, rushed her to the ER. Her blood work came back normal–better than it’s been for a long time, really–but the x-ray showed that her bladder cancer was spreading and had moved significantly in the month since the last x-ray. We spent a very restless night with her unable to eat, sleep or even settle down because of the discomfort. If a cat can’t eat or sleep then there’s not really much left for them. I called Laura this morning. She took time off from work (sorry about that, Robert), drove Moira and me to the vet and waited to take me home empty-handed. I bundled Mo up in a towel and, though alert, she didn’t really move the entire time. The process itself was shockingly quick and then she was gone. She was miserable; now she’s not.
In the days since then I’ve often found myself second-guessing my decision to end her pain, despite it being very obviously the correct thing to do. I guess I just don’t like that I have to live alone now and am still getting used to the hard truth that she’s never coming back.
That said, no, I do not currently have plans to get another pet. I’ll say that it’s because I have some trips planned (true) and that I’ve been too busy to consider it (also true) but the real reason is that I’m just not ready for it. Maybe later in the year.
In the meantime every friendly critter in town better watch out. After so many years of kitty lovin’ I’ve become an addict and I’m in need of a fix. Be prepared to receive some mighty scritchin’s and maybe more treats than your humans would like you to.