Goodbye, Higgins.

It is done.  He was ready.  I brought the cat carrier in from the garage and he walked right into it.  I carried him down to the car; he didn't make a sound.   He was silent all the way to the vet's office. I knew then, more than ever before, that he was really, really weak and sick.  Higgins was NEVER quiet in the car; he bitched like a screeching smoke alarm every inch of the way.   This trip, nothing. He just huddled in the carrier, dull-eyed and indifferent.

I am lucky to live just a few minutes from the best veterinary office in the area.  They have been caring for my animals for over 16 years and I trust them implicitly.  I felt much better about my own doubts/second thoughts/procrastination about "making the decision" when the doctor told me about how she'd put it off with her own dog, doing exactly what I did:  "Oh, he's eating better today, maybe I'm jumping to conclusions...." until finally she faced the decision at 10 o'clock one night.

I was with him to the end, petting him and saying nice things to him.  The vet and the vet tech did the same; they treated this Ancient Cat with such dignity and tenderness, I've always said that I wanted to find a medical practice for humans with this level of care.

So, it's done. I've already removed the catbox from the bathroom and bundled it to the curb (tomorrow is garbage day) and scrubbed down the tub where it sat with bleach.  I have a full container of Tidy Cats litter that I will be giving away to a friend with cats.  Over the next couple of days, as I have the time, I'll be cleaning cat hair and barf spots, washing the blankets he slept on on the backs of the furniture, etc., and in a month or so I will probably stop finding random Higgins hairs on everything.

It struck me today that he had given up sleeping on the backs of the living room furniture in the last couple of weeks.  Another change in his behavior that I missed at first, but now I see it more clearly.  I feel a bit better about it - I don't think I was ignoring a really sick animal for months, I really do think that his final slide came about in just the last couple of weeks - he'd been going downhill for a while, but this time there was no corresponding uphill turn.

I took this picture a few years ago, when he was his plump, healthy self, basking in a sunbeam.

Higgins - 1995(est.) - 2012

 He was a complainer, he had a million quirks, he drove us all nuts.  I miss him very much.