Yesterday my family made the decision to have our cat, with chronic renal failure, put down. I managed to drive over the hill during my lunch break to say good bye to him. We lay in a patch of sunlight together in my old bedroom, like we had so many times before, and I stroked his black and white fur for the last time.
When we were still deciding if it was the right time, the vet told us that cats never show weakness when they are ill. That though our cat still exhibited affection and energy, he was much sicker than he seemed. I hadn't thought of this and now I fear we kept him here too long. If only he could have whispered to me "I know I seem fine, but I'm not," we might have saved him his suffering.
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