I hate this part.

In a few hours, assuming we can find him at the appointment time, Pudge is going to be put down.

Pudge is our decrepit old tabby cat, sweet-natured if more than a little annoying, and one of my childhood cats. He's anywhere from 15 to 18 years old, and really, he's very sick - he's hyperthyroid and on meds, hunchbacked, I think arthritic, and even possibly a little senile. But I still, desperately, do not want to take him to die.

There's still a dewy-eyed 8-year-old on me who's going, "But we're taking him to the vet! They'll fix him up and he'll be okay!"

But he'd been improving on meds and then, just yesterday, had a sudden drop in weight, with dramatically sunken eyes and all, and was incredibly listless. His fur came out horrifyingly easily, well beyond the bounds of just shedding. His hunchback makes it difficult for him to walk, and his back claws aren't wearing down properly. Tonight I watched him climb up onto my desk with excruciating slowness.

...the fact of the matter is we just can't really make him comfortable any more.

And he is very, very old. He's had a good long life, for a cat.

I still don't want to see him die.

I'm going to be there, because I want the chance to say goodbye to him, and because I'm not making my mom go alone to do this. But it's going to break my fucking heart.

I grew up with that cat.

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It's done.

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Rest in peace, old guy. You had a good long run, and we did the best we could by you. You may've been a little aggravating at times, but you were loved. We'll miss you.





It's a cool and cloudy day today, thanks to the lovely rain we had last night. I guess if you've gotta die, today wasn't such a bad day to do it.

We dug him a grave out in the side yard. We told my niece and nephew last night what was going to happen, and they insisted on helping to bury him. The only reason I didn't cry with them while we were digging was because I got my sobbing out at the vet. (I'd expected it to hit a lot harder, but I guess I was more prepared than I thought.)

Afterwards, we found the pictures of him on the digicam's memory cards, and I'm sure physical photos will eventually turn up. For now, I've uploaded what I've got.

I expect this to ambush me unexpectedly over the next few days or weeks - sudden thoughts that he's not here anymore - but for now I'm holding up as well as I can. Thanks, everyone, for your condolences in the previous post. It really helps.