NaBloPoMo #16: And now he is gone

We took Pekoe (Youngest Cat) to the vet this morning, and had him put to sleep. It was completely the right thing to do - yesterday, courtesy of the steroids, he was relatively perky, at least spending the day out in the living room with us. But last night he retreated to the closet again, and this morning he used the box, then flopped on the floor right in front of it, as if it was too much for him to move any further. I wouldn't have wanted him to have to hang on any longer.

It was extremely peaceful. The vet - who is extremely kind - gave him a shot to make him sleepy, which he didn't seem even to feel. We let him walk around a little, and he eventually sank to the floor. NLLDH picked Pekoe up and held him on his lap, where he fell fast asleep. Then the vet shaved a little patch from his front leg, slowly injected the second drug, listened for his heartbeat, and told us he was gone. He didn't move at all - just slipped effortlessly away.

When they took him out of the room (we're having him cremated), we had to laugh because his tongue was sticking out of his mouth, just a little, and he often used to sit that way, when he'd finished cleaning himself or just woken up from a nap. He'd have no idea of how silly he looked, sitting in his most dignified pose with the pink tip of his tongue sticking out.

It pretty much sucked to come home tonight and see his collar, the fuzzy donuts he used to sleep on, and his little bouncy ball. But not to see him.

We are probably a little over-invested in our cats. For instance, we liked to say that Pekoe was going to law school, too, and that he answered every question by saying, "I object!" Another example is how we came up with cosmologies for them. If we're right, that means by now Pekoe is supping in the hall at Valhalla.

Sitting at the kid's table.

Sleep sweetly, my baby boy.