Life with a 21 year-old cat isn’t always simple. Misha’s declining. There are days when I have to feed her a kibble at a time, and days when she’ll barely eat at all. There are times when I’ve spent the entire day trying to feed her, gone through the entire stock of what she used to eagerly chow down on, and dissolve in tears because she refuses it all. This is it, I end up thinking.
Then, as if the little wretch was just waiting for me to break down, she takes her arthritic self to her food dish and starts munching. Damn cat.
It’s hard, watching the end approach. Watching for the signs that the balance has tipped, and the bad days outnumber the good, and it’s time to do the kindly thing and call the vet. Right now, she still seems to be enjoying life. She’ll wander out to the porch on warm days and manage to climb up on her favorite chair, surveying her domain. [Read more…]