Grief

Last night, I lost my companion of eleven years, my cat, Skyler.  It's been a rough day. 

She was here for me in some of the toughest, darkest, lonliest times of my life, and stayed my friend through the best, happiest, and most joyous times too. 

The hardest part was how very, very sudden it all happened and how completely unexpected it was.  In hindsight, I should have known.  But I just can't beat myself up about it.  I had made comments about how much water she was drinking, and about how she was going out of the litter box (which we blamed on a behavioral problem).  We've long known she has had a vitamin/mineral deficiency of some sort, but didn't know how it would come into play with her kidneys and everything else until it was too late. 

I went to bed last night at 9, and at midnight, woke up to her crying under the bed.  By that point, she was getting very sick and couldn't even walk or hold her head up.  Two hours earlier, she had been FINE. 

I rushed her to the vet, and they tried all they could, but they said that she had obviously stopped breathing on the way for at least a few minutes because she was unresponsive behind the eyes.  They said even if they were able to stabilize her that she would most likely suffer from brain damage and the vet just looked me in the eye and said, "I just don't see much hope for your cat." 

So I made the decision I'd been dreading for ten and a half years, by myself, at the emergency vet at 2:30am.  And I left in tears.  I've been crying all day.  I have, however, been overwhelmed with the calls I've gotten from friends and family, even if I haven't been able to take many of them between my moments of normalcy. 

So say a little prayer for me.  It's going to be really tough.  I just loved her so much.  She was the best.  The perfect fit.

Love you, Skyler.

Skyler, 2000-2011