You’ve been the best cat in the world. You helped me through the two hardest times of my life, and taught me how to give sub-q injections before I knew I’d need to be giving them to myself one day soon. I always thought, “if Lily can handle two daily injections, I can handle them too.” Your bravery and courage have astounded me through all of your health ups and downs. You always pulled through for me, even when I was sure we were at the end.
Old girl, I’m afraid we’re really at the end this time. I told you tonight that it’s ok to go, and that if you want to let go while snuggling beside me tonight, that would be best. I’ve emailed Dr. Dan to let him know we’re coming in Monday morning.
My heart is broken.
But it’s also full. You gave us more time than anyone thought you could, and you fought like the champ you always are. Dr. Dan told me that we’d know when it was time. I know now. Even your dad knows, and he’s usually in denial regarding your health. We all loved on you tonight, and I’ll bring you to bed with me tonight for one of our last two sleeps. I’ll do it happily, but with a lump in my throat and a pain in my heart.
As my dad says, this is the cycle of life. I wish it wasn’t. I wish we could keep you forever. You are our boys first pet, one of the many things that makes you so special to us. You taught them to love animals, pet gently, and give kisses often. Thank you for that, old girl.
Thank you for all of your love. Thank you for all of your snuggles. Thank you for all of your kisses. Thank you for the countless nights of purring in my ear. Thank you for loving my whistle. Thank you for loving your dad almost as much as you love me. Thank you for all of your unwavering trust. Thank you for your endless companionship.
Thank you for it ALL.
I love you to the moon and back, Lily.