At 8 a.m. on Friday, what was going to be a return checkup for Yin will instead be our peaceful goodbye to him. He’s been putting up with treatment for his chronic renal failure, but he’s tired. So tired. He doesn’t feel good, and he doesn’t know why.
I think he would keep taking pills and subcutaneous fluids for as long as his little body would hold out, but those treatments just don’t seem right anymore. He hasn’t gained any weight. He spends his days and nights on the refrigerator, coming down only to eat and seek out the litter box. He eats like a champ, but then tucks himself back into his spot on the fridge, displaying varying stages of discomfort or, mercifully, falling into a deep sleep.
I’m tired, too. I lie awake at night, terrified when I hear a noise downstairs, even more terrified when I don’t.
This is the bravest, kindest and most difficult decision I’ve ever been a part of.
A couple of times a day, he’ll perk up and almost resemble his old self, meowing at the top of his lungs for tuna or climbing onto my shoulders pirate cat-style for a ride around the first floor. These episodes give me pause, but I can’t make him go on just for the sake of an occasional glimmer of hope.
His work is done here. To paraphrase one of my favorite professor’s favorite quotes, there will soon be a Yin-shaped hole in the universe. I can never fill it, but at least I’ll always know that I let him go with dignity.
Entirely Adequate 
Hang in there, Shag. As hard as it is to bid farewell, you’re doing the right thing. Our critters are the best folks I know.
Crow(e) critters are pretty awesome.
I’m so sorry to hear that, Suzanne. Our Daisy (whippet) is 16, and all of our 6 cats are hitting their early teens. Daisy disappeared the other night, and after I gave up searching for her all over the neighborhood, I thought, “Well, this is it. She’s wandered off somewhere to die.” I was so relieved when I found she’d just gotten herself locked in the spare bedroom, but I know that relief will be short-lived. Every time I walk in a room and see her, I pause for a moment to see if she’s still breathing. I know it’s going to be hard, and I know it will be hard for you to lose Yin. How bizarre is it that I’ve lost people in my life for whom I didn’t get this disturbed at the thought of their demise.
As JD said, hang in there. My thoughts are with you.
*hugs* Losing a pet is never easy. No matter how old they are, it still hurts. Take comfort in knowing that you gave him the best life (including the end) that you could. My parent’s put down our family dog the other weekend and despite knowing it was coming for at least a year now, it still hurts.
Very, very sorry. Hugs and peace to you.