Not Any Easier

I had crying jags throughout the day yesterday.  By the time, Howard and I prepared for bed, I was exhausted.

But it didn’t prepare me for the utter emptiness I would feel when it was time to turn in.  Lucky wasn’t waiting for me on my pillow like usual.  I didn’t have to move him out of my way so I could climb into bed.  I didn’t feel him snuggle up against me and settle in for the night.  I didn’t feel his head on my arm or hear his contented little snort.

I grabbed my pillow, clutched it to my chest and the tears came in heaves and sobs.  Howard wrapped me up in his arms and cocooned me until the tears subsided.  I miss him, my god, do I miss him.  Only yesterday morning, he had enough strength to sit up and look down at me and then nuzzled my neck and flopped back down into my arms.  I spent extra time with him in bed yesterday morning, knowing it would be the last one together.

I keep remembering how very tired he looked.  How his eyes pleaded with me to help him.  To please fix him.

I know in my head in I did the right thing.  I just can’t get my heart wrapped around it yet.  I hope he knows I only wanted to end his suffering.  I knew that with his age, there was nothing a vet could do.  However, if we had one here, I would have taken him.  I assure you.  Many times over the last 15 years, Howard and I have forgone groceries for the week to make sure he had proper vet care.

I knew there was nothing anyone could do.  Kas assured us it was the most loving act of kindness a pet owner can give to their pet.  Ending his suffering was the only way I knew how to help him.

I just wish it didn’t hurt so much.

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