Damn I hate this part of life.
Taffy is 17 years old now, and has had diabetes for over 6 years. We’ve maintained it, and I might even say “we’ve beaten it” but last week something new hit. Taffy was diagnosed as having advanced CRF (Chronic Renal Failure). I’ve been medicating him, and giving him Sub-Q fluids, Potassium supplements, Nutritional supplements, but the one thing that we can’t get past: He won’t eat.
Taffy hasn’t eaten much at all during the past 3 days, and his breathing is hard, his legs unstable, and his purr forced. While I wish he could stay with me forever, it’s time I let him be free of all the problems he has suffered. Tomorrow at 0930 he will begin his walk over the rainbow bridge to join Toby and PC and all the other pets that are no longer encumbered by old or broken bodies. His soul will be free and happy. Why does mine feel like there’s a knife going through me?
I’ve known and cared for Taffy longer than I’ve known my dear wife. He moved to West coast with me. He was there when I got my job, and he has been there EVERY SINGLE day that I come home, purring and happy to see me. He has comforted me when I lost Toby and PC, and he always listens to my problems, and NEVER judges me. He will leave a gaping hole in my life when he leaves. There’s a selfish part inside me that says “Maybe we can keep medicating him – he can live longer” but I have to come to grips with the fact that my last furry kid will be leaving the nest tomorrow, and he can’t write home 😦 I’ve had older relatives die before, but it’s not the same. I have spent every day making sure that he was OK, and looked after. I made the promise to look after him for his entire life. I think I’ve done a pretty good job. I hope I have.
Taffy – I love you! I’ll miss your headbutts and purrs 😦