Tuesday, December 28, 2010
When I was a little girl, all my questions started with "why"--why weren't there altar girls, why did smoke come out of smokestacks and wouldn't it make us sick?
Today, I'm asking why my dearest little man would have to leave this world.
I was with Vinny all last night. I slept on the couch and every couple of hours, I would check on him. His eyes were closed, he was still struggling with his breathing, but there was hope. I was grateful that he wasn't gasping for air, prompting me to have to take him to a vet hospital with strangers and strange equipment and lights in the middle of the night.
This morning, I was hoping he would show signs of improvement, but he didn't. His breathing became deeper and he couldn't move. He was helpless. I stayed with him, continued to give him diluted chicken broth, but I knew I couldn't do any more for him.
The vet clinic down the street opened at eight o'clock and the wonderful vet we saw yesterday was there and we talked on the phone. She told me to bring him right in. She could tell he was nearing the end. The tests from yesterday were back and liver and kidneys were fine, so she suspected the heart was failing. We decided not to let him suffer as his symptoms could sometimes lead to spasms and most of all, fright over what was happening to him. I wanted to help him to the Bridge under her care, talking to him as he left us.
Why? How can we get so close to our little friends and have them for only a short while? Some of us get closer to them than we get to other humans. We trust them and they trust us with every purr and woof. They cuddle with us, no questions ever asked, so accepting of everything and everyone.
Thank you, dear friends for all of your purrs and prayers. I appreciate all of you so very, very much. My writing at least gives me a way to express my grief and share my tears.