anonymouse

I really don't have it in my heart to write a proper entry. I've tried to. I wrote my fucking heart out in the Kitties group, and it was poorly written with simple diction, but it was all true.

Let's just cut to the heart of it, then. Some of you may recall that Sammy was diagnosed with cancer months ago. He was functioning pretty okay for most of it -- catching squirrels, demanding massages, eating. He had coughing fits, but he functioned just fine 90% of the time. Last weekend, however, he stopped eating. I think that was his way of saying, "I'm done." He was just out of gas, and he couldn't stand up, and it was struggle for him to get to point A to point B, and it would've been unethical if we didn't reschedule his vet appointment for the very next day. So we did.

My mom changed the appointment for Tuesday morning, Veteran's Day, and our vet was very kind and gracious. I needed to stay there for the procedure. I wanted to stroke him and let him know I was there for him 'til the very end, and the tears flowed the second we walked into the animal clinic. It was hard. It was really fucking hard, and it still is. Part of me was scared that I was unable to cry. I didn't really cry until Monday night, when I realized how far-gone he was, and how he needed to go away from us, and how he wouldn't be with us forever. And it was ugly and bad, and the tears and snot flowed, and... I miss him so much. But I was there when he was euthanized, and my mom was there as well, and he passed so easily. There weren't any tremors or sighs, like our vet warned us might happen. It was like he just went to sleep, except his eyes remained opened, and it felt like I was punched in the gut when I realized that he died right away, and I wouldn't be able to see him again, and... I'm crying again.

After that was over, my mother and I quickly realized that going home to a house without Sammy was not an option, so we went for some comfort food. IHOP. Pancakes and things of that ilk. And when we returned home, I saw his collar hanging off the door handle, and I just lost it. Completely.

My eyes still sting from crying, but my head isn't as sore any more from the excessive crying. I miss him so much, and I can't believe that my special little guy isn't here. Everything I do every day reminds me that he isn't here -- feeding Zowie, changing the litter, going to bed and not being able to give him a goodnight rub, waking up and not finding the little guy snuggled up to me -- everything.

Fuck. I just don't know what to do. I feel like a zombie, like I'm not completely there. It was worse on Tuesday and Wednesday, and it's gotten a bit better, but I feel inconsolable right now. He was 13 years old. He was there for more than half of my life, and there's this huge gap missing now. But... I'll have to move on eventually.

Okay. I'm going to stop writing before this entry gets too maudlin. I intend to scan some old pictures of Sammy. He was a member of the family, and he was my guy, and he isn't here anymore. I wrote schmalzy and schmoopy stuff extensively in the Kitties group, so if you care to know more, you can check that out. I wrote about it in the kitty journal, but I might tell the "how Sammy came into our lives" story once I've uploaded pictures of my baby into My Pics. I guess I just want everyone to see my wonderful little guy. There are a couple of pics all ready up there, but I want more. I love him, and I miss him.