Time is approaching

Elliott, my beloved long haired tuxedo cat, is starting to really fail. He does nothing but sleep, his walking is labored, and today he had trouble jumping up to the table where the food is served. TGF said she went to lift him up and he objected to the touch, which has become more common. He is very swollen and no doubt quite uncomfortable. I have been finding little puddles of very concentrated urine, which I am sure are his.

I have posted to a local resource list asking for contact information for a vet who would come to the house to put him down. I simply cannot imagine taking him in somewhere and bringing his body home. I just can't. Not that doing it here will be easier really, but it just feel more "right" to me. Having him die at home fits with my idea that birth happens at home, unless it really needs to be elsewhere. It is about respecting life for me. I have no idea how I managed to live this long without having this experience.

Right now I am remembering when we lost a foster kitten, one the first ones - Larissa, she and Atticus (nee Lycus) came to us together on a Saturday in late May. We called her "calendar kitty", she was sure to be an absolute stunner. Atticus was far from a beauty, though he turned into an absolutely striking adult cat. She was vivacious and lively, but then suddenly she became sick and in about 3 or 4 days we woke up to her limp, tiny, and soft body. Actually I dealt with it really well, lifting her small, almost weightless body and cuddling her against my cheek. TGF solemnly took her body and buried her in our front yard. The spot is marked and next to her is planted lemon balm and strawberries. Now we will have another special spot to mark and honor. Soon, all too soon.