And though she be but little, she is fierce...RIP Ophelia

Ophelia is gone. Her life ended in April, but I haven't had the heart to write about it until now. It was much harder to lose Ophelia than I ever expected. Perhaps it's because she was my constant companion for sixteen years, or perhaps it's because she went downhill so fast that I didn't have the luxury of time to prepare myself emotionally, or perhaps it's because I did nothing to prolong her life and feel guilty because of that. Perhaps it's a combination of all three. Whichever way you slice it, it hurts. To make a long story medium, one night, Ophelia started to meow in the wee hours. Being in denial, I convinced myself it was because we had just moved, even though I suspected otherwise. We had moved before, and Ophelia was never vocal about it. The next day, the situation continued, and it was a sad meow that told me she was in pain. She began having noticeable trouble getting up, and was barely moving. I took her to the vet, and she got sick in the car, as she always did. I got some dirty looks from people in the waiting room, and boy did I throw some back! I glared one particular woman down so long and hard I think I scared her. I just couldn't believe that she couldn't make the connection that sometimes, people take their pets to see a vet because they're SICK! She was holding a puppy, and maybe she'd never had a companion animal before, so had never experienced the loss of one. A little compassion would have been grand, but the vet tech made up for the woman in the waiting room. She was so good to my kitty, making sure she was comfortable, even after she'd been tranquilized and couldn't move or complain. As an aside, the tranquilization was the best thing I could have done for Phe. She would never have tolerated the IV, and it was so much more humane for her this way. I had to wait for the tranquilizer to take effect, which gave me all the time I needed to talk to Phe and tell her how much I'd miss her, and to thank her for being my furry friend. Then it was all over, and I had to go home without her. Thankfully I had my honey with me to help keep me together, and Leo at home to distract me. And still there are moments when I look for her on the couch, or go down the pet aisle at Sueprstore looking for cat litter. We had so many incredible experiences together, and made it through sooooo much stuff. Phe was with me almost half of my life. Sometimes I wonder how I'll possibly be without her, and I often think about what I could have done differently, if anything. Cats are harder to care for than dogs in some ways. Sure, you don't have to take them outside to pee, but when they get old, they don't tolerate car rides to the vet so well, and they don't often take arthritis medication willingly (or keep it down). When illness hits in old age, you realize that their quality of life will be severely impacted by any attempts to prolong life. In my case, Ophelia was already terminally ill, and showing signs of renal failure, so the decision was pretty clear, I guess. I don't know if I'll ever stop missing her. I do know there won't be any more kitties in this house for a while, if ever. Leo's too big and boisterous for a kitty, and he's enough of a commitment. Maybe some other time. I'm so glad I walked into the SPCA that day long ago in November. My Phe was a good friend. I only hope I was worthy of her friendship.