Because my Caspie deserves it.
It's been a week and a half since Caspian died. I've been putting this off because if I don't write about it I don't have to actually believe it. At least that's how it works in my mind.
Cas had been fighting a losing battle for over a month, but he'd been so cheerful through all of it. Even with going to the vet four or five times a week, the pills, the shots, the poking and prodding, he had still been his cheerful, sweet self. A little more tired, but still completely himself. When he woke up on Friday, we knew something was wrong. His breathing was so heavy, he could barely stand, and his eyes were completely vacant. No sparkle, just heavy set and full of pain.
We took him in late in the afternoon and spent an hour with him waiting to see the doctor. The waiting room was full of people. Holding their healthy, squirming animals, laughing and sharing stories. We sat in a corner and cried together, taking turns petting Caspie. It's horrible sitting there being torn between praying for it to be over soon and to have just a little more time. Waiting for the time when you will walk out of one of the small rooms holding an empty cage.
The vet and the staff we wonderful. The woman who carried him out of the room cradled him like a baby and cooed to him gently. Calling him sweet pet names and kissing his head. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to have been there with him. She was amazing.
I'm having a really hard time dealing with Caspian's death. He was my boy. My sweet Caspie who used to sit in the window and attempt to chirp at birds. Who put mice in my shoes and stole leftovers off of the stove. Time will heal my heart, but for now I still have many tears.
I love you my Caspian. You are special. You are precious. You are the only cat I've ever seen made completely out of cow fur.
Caspian James Bennet Watrous June 1st, 2006 - September 21st, 2007
Mama and Daddy love you Caspie.
