Bastet (May 12, 1989 - October 7, 2005)
Bastet died peacefully today while Tom held her at the veterinary hospital. She purred until the end. She was 16 1/2.
Her doctor determined yesterday that there was no hope for recovery from renal failure and that she could not survive more than a day or two. We could not let her suffer.
Bastet had a great summer, spending some time outside every day, eating well, and looking/feeling healthy. I'm happy that I was working at home most of the time so that I could be with her.
This is the worst possible time for me to be in South Carolina. I would have stayed in Oregon with her until it was over; however, on Wednesday the lab tests were not back yet and Dr. Sullivan thought that treatment might well be possible. I left her in good hands to attend my mother's 80th birthday celebration.
Thursday morning before I left, however, I told Bastet goodbye and signed a letter giving Tom authority to make any decisions regarding her health. He cleared his decision with me before going through with it. He was so grief stricken that he could barely speak. He's staying at my house now to take care of Matisse, who is behaving the way cats do when they know something has happened.
It's nice to see my family, but I really want to go home. I'm so sad.
Her doctor determined yesterday that there was no hope for recovery from renal failure and that she could not survive more than a day or two. We could not let her suffer.
Bastet had a great summer, spending some time outside every day, eating well, and looking/feeling healthy. I'm happy that I was working at home most of the time so that I could be with her.
This is the worst possible time for me to be in South Carolina. I would have stayed in Oregon with her until it was over; however, on Wednesday the lab tests were not back yet and Dr. Sullivan thought that treatment might well be possible. I left her in good hands to attend my mother's 80th birthday celebration.
Thursday morning before I left, however, I told Bastet goodbye and signed a letter giving Tom authority to make any decisions regarding her health. He cleared his decision with me before going through with it. He was so grief stricken that he could barely speak. He's staying at my house now to take care of Matisse, who is behaving the way cats do when they know something has happened.
It's nice to see my family, but I really want to go home. I'm so sad.