Yesterday I got some pretty bad news.
Rocky, my "oldest" has been diagnosed with kidney disease.
I'm heartbroken. He has been with us since he was a kitten and found by a co-worker in a box in a Wal-mart parking lot.
I just don't have it in me to try and be happy today. I don't have it in me to be perky today. All I really want to do is curl up with him and pet him and tell him everything is going to be alright. Only it's not going to be. His is pretty advanced and while the vet didn't give us a timeline, we had to make some changes to his diet immediately. I can pretty much tell you I will be spending my weekend researching this to see what we can do to prolong his life.
At some point yesterday I had a friend say to me, "He's a cat." As if the fact that he is only a pet should have made me feel better. It didn't. He's my cat. He has lived with me for 13 years and has been a trusted friend. When I worked outside of the home he would meet me at the door everyday and tell me about his day as I headed into my room to change into comfy clothes. His purr has quieted over the years going from a jet engine type of sound to a softer motor-boat putting around the bay, but when it is time to say good-bye to him it will be hard.
I am not going to spend the time left fixating on the fact that he won't always be here because that was inevitable anyway. I am going to make sure I enjoy the moments we do have left and spend as much quality time with his as I can.