Damien was a great kitty. He was happy to roll around on his back, sometimes falling off the couch in the process, much like you'll see a dog doing in the grass. "Tickle my belly", he seemed to say. And he was a great napper. Many a nights I loved watching him and
arttart napping together, both of them in parity in their pose and direction. I miss
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Oh, no question. I meant only that I've never previously had to make the judgment call of when it was "time" -- I've had other cats euthanized, but they were already dying; the injections served only to shorten their suffering. I'd never let one go without having him in my arms, and fortunately, our vet is a kind and compassionate man who does everything he can to make the experience less painful for the animal and the people.
As Colm goes, I'll be whispering in his ear the soothing nonsense words I've spoken to him all his life: "Him was my big old man. Him was my sweetie."
My thoughts are with you and Damien.
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Silly whinybutt. :)
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