1 hour ago
This is the day I was dreading. The end came at 5.45 a.m., in my presence - leaving an irreplaceable void in my life.
I'm fully aware that some may feel I go on and on too much about the subject, writing as if nobody else has gone through a similar experience, but I have no one else in the world to talk to about it and I need somehow to relieve the pressure built up inside me. So if I indulge myself, you don't have to read any further if you'd rather not:-
There were signs last night that the end could be approaching. Two particular things changed about his condition which alarmed me (I won't go into detail). Added to which, instead of Blackso's normal croaky miaow he started a periodic kind of wail, though for nothing in particular that I could see. As I combed his rather emaciated, fur-sparse body I started noticing with some horror that fleas had already started being attracted to him, despite his regular flea drops. I could even see them darting in and out on his face. Giving him more drops, I tried to soothe him by gentle strokes and whispering that if he really wanted to let go during the night that was okay.
I had a restless night, checking on him lying in his litter tray in the kitchen. Getting up at 4.30, I found him fast asleep and still breathing, one of his front legs rising and falling with each intake of breath. He showed no signs of moving nor indicating that he was wanting breakfast. Noodles was also there in the same room but unconcerned and he ate his breakfast as usual (which surprised me a bit as I thought he might have picked up on the situation). Blackso remained motionless until, at 5.45, he suddenly stirred and made two big soundless gulps of air. and nothing else - then rested back in repose. I immediately checked though couldn't detect any rise and fall of his breathing. I feared the inevitable had happened though I desperately didn't want it to be so. Leaving him there, I sat myself in the living room - and gushed.
With mind in a spin, I kept looking in on him and checking for signs of life without touching. Then at 9 o'clock I put some of his favourite food under his nose. No reaction. I touched him and he was cold and stiff with rigid tail. I could see also that he'd voided himself in the tray and was lying in it.
What had to be done couldn't wait so I picked him up, his entire body now as stiff as a board, and wrapped him inside a large, plastic carrier bag putting it in a shoulder bag. Rang vet at 9 who told me to bring him in at 10.
Once there in the treatment room I couldn't keep myself from blubbing as the young lady had a look at him and confirmed that he had definitely gone. I put my hand gently over him, still in the carrier bag, and wished him farewell and thanks.
(Given the choice of an individual cremation with ashes returned, which I've heard can be very expensive, or a communal cremation, I, of course, had to opt for the latter).
So that was the departure of my very best friend in the world, the only one who gave me absolute and unconditional affection, reciprocating exactly as I gave him - and not just when he wanted his eats but all the time. (Noodles only gives a soft purr when it's feeding time. Patchie can be loving but it's variable. With Blackso it was always there, guaranteed.)
Thank you for giving me so much for over 17 years, Dear Heart. Your unique place in my memory is assured for eternity. Sleep in peace with all my blessings and my most profound gratitude.