So it is a week...

that I said goodbye to my furry baby. I wasn't in the mood to write about it earlier, and I didn't even have the time, so here it goes.

Last week, when it seemed that our cat was getting better, I arranged for another rentgen to be done. That was on Wednesday evening and the results were not good - her lungs were filling up with water again. Yet then it still seemed that she would last at least through the weekend (we were scheduled to visit my grandma that weekend).

On Thursday, when I came home from a work gala dinner, I noticed immediatelly that things were bad... the cat was apatic, not moving, and breathing very hardly. I knew it was time... so all in tears I send a text message to our vet (who is my close friend) asking her to come the following day.

It was very tough for me. I did make it through, though, and I held the cat all the time, while the vet gave her a sleeping shot and then the lethal one. I then had the other cat sniff the body so that she would understand, and packed the body in a box (out vet knows better - she brought a box of kleenex and a transportation box for the body), and somehow I was even able to drive 200 miles to my grandma's house.

We buried the cat on my grandma's garden, where all the family pets are. I am actually in a way glad that it turned out like this, because otherwise we wouldn't have a decent place to bury the cat - here we live in an apartment house with no garden. I think the burial was harder for me than what I had to do the day before - I had to ask DH to take the body out of the box, because I just couldn't stand touching the cold and stiff thing that was all that was left from my beloved cat.

I miss her a lot. I don't cry the way I did the weekend after we received the diagnosis, when every look at the cat reminded me of what was to come. I just don't think about it and then it doesn't hurt. And when I do think about her, I try to remember only the good things... but of course, now that I am writing this, I can hardly see the screen through tears.

But I just have to get this out somehow.... you can't really talk about grieving a loss of an animal to people at work or to friends, because they wouldn't understand and they would think you are crazy, and DH just doesn't want to talk about it at all. Wonder if he'd be the same if it was his parents... or me.

Better don't want to know.