The days and nights before, she had some ups and downs, but she always rallied. The last night, Iggy was over at the neighbor’s, then out on her box and in the garden for quite a while. This was a break in her pattern of the past year. I was finally able to coax her to come in sometime after midnight.
My bed is rather high and in those last days she had some trouble jumping up on it. That night she laid down near it but didn’t even attempt to jump up. I lifted her up and set her on her towel. She laid down and I took my usual position nearer the wall.
Iggy had one arm out in front of her, which meant “stroke my arm.” I did. Then she put her paw on my hand and gently drew my hand back under her head. My poor kitty couldn’t get comfortable with her head up that high so I turned my palm up. She laid her head in my palm and went to sleep.
Some time in the next couple of hours she jumped down. When I got up and went into the bathroom, she followed me in per usual, but she was staggering. As I moved about a little, she was dragging herself to be near me. That’s when I knew for certain it was time for me to help her cross.
I won’t go too deeply into the rest of it except to say 1) pet ERs need to come up with another way to ask people for payment 2) a pet being brought in to be put to sleep should not be taken away for even the few minute it takes to put a port in 3) not everyone is comforted by “The Rainbow Bridge.”
I Hate That Fucking Poem.
I took my baby home and buried her in the garden near her wooden box. In the spring I want to get a cat statue and mom and I have an idea for planting flowers among the slate that covers Iggy’s grave.
Sleep sweet, my precious baby girl. I miss you.