I was reminded this past week how quickly things can change. A mere 24 hours can take you from knowing your cat is feeling unwell to holding her in your lap as she peacefully slips away.
Long story short, I found out on Wednesday evening that my cat Abby was far sicker than I ever suspected—leukemia, with blood counts so low even a transfusion wouldn’t be worthwhile—and I had to put her to sleep Thursday evening. Deciding when she would leave this world is probably the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.
I thought I’d have more time with her—I’d only had her a year and a half, and she was still young and energetic, not even four years old. There are zany behaviors I wish I’d managed to get on video, more pictures I wish I’d taken, and perhaps I should have tried to play with her a little more, but I know I did all I could to make her feel loved and secure despite all the changes in our lives recently.
My other cat, Maia, has been a huge comfort. I will have to get her tested for the feline leukemia virus, but for now she is healthy and seemingly content (though sometimes I wonder if she wonders where Abby is), and that is a great relief. And if I’m cuddling her more often right now, well, she usually doesn’t mind, especially since I’m also being generous with her treats.
Rest in peace, Abby. You were a joy to me in our short time together and I will cherish the memories of your exuberance and our many cuddles.

I was reminded this past week how quickly things can change. A mere 24 hours can take you from knowing your cat is feeling unwell to holding her in your lap as she peacefully slips away.

Long story short, I found out on Wednesday evening that my cat Abby was far sicker than I ever suspected—leukemia, with blood counts so low even a transfusion wouldn’t be worthwhile—and I had to put her to sleep Thursday evening. Deciding when she would leave this world is probably the hardest choice I’ve ever had to make.

I thought I’d have more time with her—I’d only had her a year and a half, and she was still young and energetic, not even four years old. There are zany behaviors I wish I’d managed to get on video, more pictures I wish I’d taken, and perhaps I should have tried to play with her a little more, but I know I did all I could to make her feel loved and secure despite all the changes in our lives recently.

My other cat, Maia, has been a huge comfort. I will have to get her tested for the feline leukemia virus, but for now she is healthy and seemingly content (though sometimes I wonder if she wonders where Abby is), and that is a great relief. And if I’m cuddling her more often right now, well, she usually doesn’t mind, especially since I’m also being generous with her treats.

Rest in peace, Abby. You were a joy to me in our short time together and I will cherish the memories of your exuberance and our many cuddles.

washingtonpoststyle:

On Valentines Day in 1884, Teddy Roosevelt’s wife and mother died within hours of each other. This was his diary entry for that Thursday.

via LettersOfNote by way of Gene Weingarten.

This is lovely… I just wish I knew what it was from.