Shatzi, beloved companion of The Wife's for 18+ years, and of mine for 5, mustered up her last purr, draped over TW's shoulder, her favorite perch.
Last December, we found out she had symptoms of early stages of kidney failure. OK, we figured, we'll give her the special renal food, the saline IV to help keep her hydrated, and see how she does, as long as she's not suffering. We were prepared for the worst.
This, of course, was her cue to stick around for a while. Her weight stabilized, and that was that. Blind and deaf and cranky as ever, she continued to join us on the couch for TV time when she felt like it (or if she smelled people-food), continued to ignore us until she decided she had had quite enough of us not paying attention to her (if I understand cat logic correctly), and continued to play hit-or-miss with the litter box.
A couple weeks ago, she dropped from 7 pounds to 6, and last week, from 6 to 5. Her behavior never changed, but she was skin and bones. She still ate, and she still loved curling up on the couch. But Wednesday, that all changed. In the course of 24 hours, she lost all her strength. Whereas Tuesday night I saw her jump right up to her futon after her $5 stinky-food, Wednesday night she could barely walk. That was it.
Let's just say she got carried around and held and petted and brushed and snuggled and kissed and petted some more a lot that night. She ate that shit right up, I should add. She was probably wondering what the occasion was. And where was the damned steak/venison/catfish?
We set TW up with a mattress so she could sleep in Shatziland. I put Shatzi down on the mattress and stayed with her until TW was done with the pre-bed routine, and she curled right up and went to sleep, purring and flitting her tail all the while.
Thursday TW took Shatzi to the vet, and it was confirmed. "You know it's time. There's nothing else we can do."
Of course, of all fucking days, I was in a meeting with a potentially HUGE client. I've been at the new place for 2 months, and this was absolutely positively the first day where I could not have just packed a bunch of work for later on a jump drive and left. WATFO?!?!? I had already told TW that since that meeting was 66% of the way home, I wasn't going back to the office, so I'd either meet her home or at the vet's office, just leave a message on my phone. Her initial intent was to wait for me, but then she decided not to prolong the agony. The last message on my phone was to meet her home. I got there first, and put out a glass of wine and some chocolate.
We found a nice spot in the back yard that we can see from all the windows, especially TW's window at her computer, and buried Shatzi there with her favorite brush. I read the eulogy, it got a little dusty outside, and we said our final goodbyes.
Then I'm going to eat the fucking thing.
You'll be missed.
