So for the first time in almost 20 years of marriage, StatSpouse and I are cat-less. We came home last night and got up this morning to no kitty to greet us, no food bowls, no litter boxes...
Even though Little Boy never gave us a clear indication, I'm comforted by peace that we did the right thing at the right time, and in the right way. Since Little Boy could be scared and aggressive with strangers and especially with the vet, and at the recommendation of our regular doctor, we doped him up before the hospice doctor even arrived. I don't think he ever knew there was a stranger in the house. He slept on StatSpouse's lap, nose buried in his favorite blanket, through the consultation, decision-making, and sedative and then just drifted away. He won't have to experience the steady decline and possible emergency that was his prognosis if we had delayed.
I'm also comforted by many things I'm taking to be signs of support from above. There was a break in the rain and even a beam of sunlight on us as we buried him yesterday afternoon, and I found out later there was also a rainbow (the bridge?) in the neighborhood. "His" herd of deer that he loved to watch through the window stopped by the yard, not ten minutes after we went inside. One even went right up to his grave. And, of course, I'm comforted by sharing this grief with StatSpouse and by the family, friends, and professionals (we have the best vet ever) who have supported us along this journey.
We'll adopt again. I can't imagine having a house with no kitty for too long.
