A daily walk with... ME |
Yesterday was hard. I had to make the decision to end McGregor's life. My seventeen-year-old tabby had been crying a lot lately and not using his litter box, which is not like him at all. So we went to our veterinarian yesterday for some tests. Dr. Baskin, who has treated my babies for many years, gave me the news. It was renal failure. Mac's kidneys weren't working properly. He was in pain. She said there were steps we could take, but, at seventeen, they would put a strain on him and on my finances, and whatever procedures we made Mac endure, it would only prolong the inevitable. I held him in the examination room. I looked into his tired eyes. He looked into my sad eyes and purred. I decided to let him go. The doctor brought in "The Shot" and injected the pink cocktail into Mac's blood stream. He lay in my arms and went to sleep as I told him what a good boy he was and how I loved him. I came home and put the empty cat carrier away and began the task of life without my McGregor. It was hard to watch TV without him in my lap. It was hard to go to bed without him by my side. It's hard to write all of this in my journal today. But as a writer, it is necessary for the healing and the easing of the pain. I have faith that our pets will see us again. I believe they, too, go to heaven. I have no doubt my Mackie lives on, free of pain, in a place of joy and peace. You be a good boy, Mackie, until we meet again. |