It seems that it is almost time to say good bye to one of my cats.
She is around 21, which makes her about 100 years old in human terms.
She's been in my life since I was 10. I have lived more of my life with her than I have without her.
I live in terror of coming home and finding her dead, but at the same time I hope and pray for her to die quietly in her sleep.
I don't want to make the decision.
But it feels closer with every day.
I remember when we had to have our other cat put down (stomach cancer) and I was so worried that I'd make the wrong decision and that I wouldn't know when. Everyone just kept saying to me 'you'll know when', but I didn't believe them.
But it was true. I knew when.
Now I'm going through the same thing again, filled with doubt and worry, and I'm having a hard time accessing that memory, the once that would reassure me that I *will* know when.
Anyway, for now I'm just kind of sad. But the truth is, she's lived a very good, very long kitty life. She may not be able to pluck bats out of the air anymore, but I can certainly still tell stories about her doing it.
Not sure what the point of this way, just, well, you know, bleh...