Until We Meet Again

Goodbye little Stinkers.

The other night Stinky's breathing became more labored but she was still purring and snugly. The next day, she began to deteriorate quickly so the hubby called the vet who thankfully makes house calls.

Yesterday afternoon, I picked the kids up from school early and headed home to say goodbye. It was sunny and warm so we found both hubby and cat outside in the garden. Stinky was sniffing the flowers, gnawing on the grass and roaming around. As she was rubbing against the pine tree in the side yard, I sat down beside her and began to pet her. She then laid down in the warm sunshine next to the tree and simply hung out with us as we all continued petting her. It was very peaceful.

When the vet and his assistant came, she wasn't even scared. Without even getting up, she let them pet her. We agreed to give her the shots outside: the first in a vein to numb her and the second in a muscle to put her down. She put up a bit of a fight with the first shot so I placed her on my lap. I then held her, pet her and whispered to her as they put her to sleep.

It was the perfect ending for the perfect cat. Sitting in the warm sunshine surrounded by her family who loved her.

We buried her by the ring of pink flowers that is just starting to come up -- along with her Stinky bowl that I painted with my girlfriend Darlene in NJ one weekend many moons ago. I couldn't bare to ever see it again.

And then the kids and I read Psalm 23 aloud. She will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Goodbye my little love.

1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,

3 he restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake.

4 Even though I walk
through the valley of the shadow of death, [a]
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.

6 Surely goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the LORD
forever.

Stinky the Cat

Our much loved cat, age 16, is on her death bed. Illness: cancer. Prognosis: dire.

I'm going to miss her beyond measure and I don't want to let go. 

Without Stinky, I may finally get a full night of sleep. No more midnight-to-three-AM face licks. I will no longer have to cover my head with my comforter for peace. She won't be around to scratch the comforter until I give in and let her smother me with affection.

Without Stinky, I may be able to read a book without her climbing onto my chest -- not my lap -- and snuggling against my neck thereby making my arm movements (and page turning) virtually impossible.

But I don't want to sleep or read. I just want her to live forever. Without illness or pain.

Son #1 cannot stop sobbing. Actually, none of us can. He was asking me tons of questions last night between tears including "How can I possibly go on without her?" (not sure) and "Can't she just make it until I turn 10?" (four weeks? unlikely).

He's also calculating how many years until he sees her again in heaven.

I'm discovering that facing the death of a beloved pet is, as always, very difficult but managing it with a grief-stricken kid is absolutely heart wrenching. God help us.  And God bless little Stinkpot. May she go quickly and painlessly.