Cleaning up a bunch of posts in draft mode today (1/21/07), and I ran across this one. While very sad, I couldn’t bring myself to delete it.

It’s almost 5 am, and I am sitting at my computer, drinking a tall glass of V8, and sobbing. My head is throbbing, and I haven’t slept at all. Fuzza continues to decline, and while I had hoped we could all have just one more day together, it isn’t going to happen. I almost wish I had called the vet after Lin and I talked and made the appointment for yesterday afternoon. It’s so sad to see him fading away like this.

Lin is asleep in the bedroom. I probably should have gone to bed with him, but I heard him crying. I thought he might want to be alone. He’s very much a man when it comes to crying. He doesn’t like to do it, even in front of me. I was also afraid it would lead to both of us laying there crying all night, and he needs sleep more than I do. So I’m on the far end of the house, so I can cry without waking him up.

Fuzza is laying in the kitchen. Any attempt to move him to a more comfortable and warm spot leads to him laying there a few minutes and then he makes his way back to the kitchen. It is one of his favorite rooms where I often gave him bits of whatever I was cooking, played with him, fed him, and where he spent many hours laying in the late afternoon sun. Mostly he is sleeping now, but every so often he wakes up and lets out a little meow … which brings me running. It’s in those moments when he is most clearly himself again. He looks up at me with bright aware eyes, and he tells me it’s time to go. Then he lays back down and goes back to sleep.

He laid on my lap for several hours last night while I watched TV. When he finally got up and went back to the kitchen again, I felt the familiar warm spot on my leg where his body heat had made me start to sweat. I am going to miss that. It was probably the last time we’ll sit like that.