I guess it’s a “guy thing.”

We had to put our little cat Amanda to rest yesterday.  She was our Lap Cat.  She would crawl into my lap when I chanted my rounds, into Mona’s lap when she wrote letters or read books.

She was very old for a cat- nineteen- and her health had declined precipitously.  She was hurting,  She was unhappy.  Logically, I know it was the right decision.  It was the final, compassionate thing I could do for her.

But there’s part of me that still feels like, as the man, it was my job to Fix This–  and, of course, I just couldn’t.  Not this time.

And I know it’s completely illogical, but it feels like a failure.


One thought on “Decisions

  1. You did NOT fail. Together we gave her the best possible life-and she loved us so much. Every day of her life was filled with being completely spoiled, hugged, kissed and cuddled. You made little “nest” beds for her, gave up your chair when she would sneak in and grab your spot, fed her, took her to the vet, chanted with her, gave her your all, just like you do ME. I love you so , so very much.

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