Getting Ready to Say Goodbye

In the midst of all the happiness and excitement about the new house, there is something that is tugging at the edges of my heart. My dear kitty, Sanders, is really not doing well. I guess I thought that once he came home from boarding he would shape right up, but the fact of the matter is that he is old, diabetic, arthritic, and I think he's starting to lose his sight.

Duane and I have been doing everything we can to make our old man comfortable. He was doing some inappropriate peeing at the old house, but I think the stairs were too difficult for him. Because of that and the fact that Sanders needs a special diet, we kennel him when we are asleep or not home. His kennel has a soft bed, a blanket, his favorite toy, both his foods, water and a litter box, so he has everything he needs right there. We've put extra water dishes out so he doesn't have to walk very far to get a drink. We've put an extra cushy cat bed in the spot he has claimed as his own.

But deep down, I know this is just a bandage.

Sanders weaves and limps when he walks. He can't jump up on laps or chairs and has to be lifted instead. He lost his balance on the five steps that lead to the lower level and fell down them. He has only been in the upper level of our house twice.

He's eating pretty well but is so very skinny. We have to take him for fluids twice a week and he's still just fur and bones. And worse, he has actually lost weight in the last week.

The dry air in the new house is proving rough on Sanders too. I get chapped lips and dry skin. Sanders gets kitty nose bleeds. The first was so bad he was actually sneezing blood, prompting me to call the vet, which is how I now know cats can get nose bleeds.

Every morning when I come downstairs to let him out of his kennel, I am half surprised he is still alive. I love Sanders so much, and it hurts to see him like this. Gus and Sadie just leave him alone and Sadie has taken over as the kitty head of the house.

I spend time every day sitting with Sanders, petting him and telling him I love him. But the truth is, I am starting to feel guilty. Am I trying too hard to hang on to him because I just don't want to let him go? How will I know when to say goodbye? And then I feel bad for thinking those things. Part of me has him on his death bed, but he's still here. I guess I'm just trying to prepare myself for the day he dies.