That Horrible Day Arrived

I woke up this morning to find Callie sitting on the rug in the living room, her ears bent forward more so than yesterday. Mike was sitting with her and trying to console her. He hadn't seen her like this and he agreed with me that she was in pain.

We had some pain medicine left over from when she hurt her paw and gave her one. She perked up a tiny bit. She seemed to be in a druggie daze, complete with the munchies. We decided she needed to either be drained to relieve the pressure or put to sleep. Since Mike had to go into work for a few hours we set up an appointment with the emergency vet. Then I waited with Callie sitting next to me. She was struggling to breathe. At one point her head fell forwards, her nose on the couch. When I moved to examine her she perked up but I knew the end was near for her.

We took her for a long car ride to the vet's office. Our normal vet is two minutes away, the emergency clinic we chose was over a half hour. Callie normally shakes when she is in the car, she wasn't this time. Only a slight tremor in her ears due to her breathing issues. We arrived and she was taken in to be examined. We waited anxiously, at our regular vet we aren't separated at this point so it was nerve wracking. A tech soon came in to say the Doctor was a bit delayed but our little girl had a crowd of 17 fawning over her. The vet came in and reviewed the notes I had from our regular vet. She told us that FIP is a horrible disease and she would support us to drain her or to euthanize her. We had Callie come and join us and we discussed our options. In the end we knew we were just prolonging the inevitable. Sure, draining her could help her out but we'd be back here soon, could even be as quickly as tomorrow. With her in our laps we started to cry and asked her to give us guidance. She purred for a second and stayed on my lap. She wasn't shaking, she wasn't nervous. She was ready.

We were taken into a comfortable room and a catheter was placed in her arm. She came to spend time with us before the procedure. We were given ten minutes, we asked for five. She's had FIP diagnosed for over a month, we've been waiting for quite a few weeks for this moment. It didn't make it any easier.

With Callie on my lap the vet came in and gave her the sedation. An active kitten fell limp into my lap. Then the drugs were administered. Mike thinks she was gone before the they were even finished. And then we were left alone with her empty body. The vet soon came back with a towel since cats have a tendency to lose their bladder. We placed the towel under her and petted her a few more times. It felt like a waste to me, she was already gone, her body was not hers anymore. I moved to get up and noticed the towel didn't work, I had a nice big marking on my thigh from her. Mike says's this was a parting gift. I had to run around the clinic to get myself cleaned up.

We entered the office a family of three; we left with red, blotchy eyes, an empty crate, a final bill, and heavy hearts. We were now a family of two. Ever enriched by the love of our little girl. With us for five short months, in our hearts forever.

Afterwards we stopped at Kohl's so that I could change my pants. I wasn't in the mood to shop so after the first two pairs didn't fit and my pants had dried I decided to let it be. We went out for dinner. For the first time in months there was no one to rush home to, no one to be worried about, no one waiting. The waitress was busy and due to that slow but we didn't care. Once finished we rented two light hearted movies to make it through the night.

Arriving home there was no one to greet us. In the back of our minds we were hoping for a miracle but we knew she was no longer in kitten form. Mike is hoping she'll pay us a visit and be our friendly ghost. I'm a skeptic at heart but I hope Callie is able to meet Mike's wish.

I've called out of work for tomorrow. I've had to, I got a flat tire yesterday and had no time to fix it today. I'm tired, I should go to sleep. But I know I will not have anyone eager to climb under the blankets and curl up by my legs. I know that there will be no one hogging my pillow. No back on my head, no butt in my face. My pillow will be lonely tonight.