At just after 3.00pm this afternoon, my beautiful baby, my dear friend, my companion, my love – left this world. She slipped away in about 20 seconds. We changed vet’s this past week and hoped she would live for a good few weeks however the stress of the situation, she had lost so much weight, took her so very quickly. Even 3 days ago, I could see she was still there fully in her face even though her body was wasting away.
The vet was magnificent. An amazing person. So kind, so gentle. I wished he had been our vet from the beginning. Our previous vet lacked humanity and was out to extract as much money as possible. He told us all about the process upon our arrival. He made sure The Queen B was comfortable. We opted to take her wrapped in a blanket rather than in her carrier to minimise stress. She loved driving through Sonning Eye and seeing the river. When we arrived at the practice, he took her into the back room bundled in her blanket and prepared her for the procedure.
He brought her back through and gave us 5 minutes alone to prepare. When it was time, he came back into the room. He was such a calming presence. He flushed the cannula and when we were ready, gave her the injection. In that moment, I felt a second of blind panic knowing that the process was irreversible. A short while later, her head settled down and her body went limp. I bawled my eyes out.
When we had adjusted to what had happened, he took her out the back and removed the cannula before returning with her wrapped beautifully in her blanket. Her face covered and her eyes had been closed. Her emaciated body had seemed so light when we had arrived. It suddenly felt so heavy. We thanked the vet and the receptionist for their kindness then brought her home. She is buried at the bottom of the garden in her blanket, facing towards the house. She is in a lovely location, right under where the birds and squirrels feed. She used to love hanging out there.
A strange thing happened a little earlier tonight. We heard a cat cry. Right up by the window. We both looked outside but there was no one there. We ventured outside to where we had heard the sound. As we came back inside, we heard it again. The sound was unmistakable and so close to us. It was her, letting us know she was okay. It’s not going to bring her back but I know she is safe on her journey, to wherever she is headed to. I hope we meet again.
Being without her, even for just this short amount of time is agonising. Even these past few days, with her so withdrawn and unwell – knowing she was here was a great comfort. She was an amazing person and I told her everything I needed to before the procedure. I kissed her and told her I loved her, hundreds of times. She was loved. Adored actually. I will never get over her passing and I will not have another pet because they won’t be her. It wouldn’t be fair on them.
Goodnight my precious, sweet and funny friend. You lit up my world and I will never forget you. If I’m honest, I wished you could have taken me with you. What got me through last year in Intensive Care, was knowing you would be there waiting for me upon my arrival home. You buoyed me up and got me through. Life is going to be unbearable without you.
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