Yesterday, Gregory Peckory died in my arms.

He was diagnosed with liver disease about a month ago and had been on home IV fluid treatments. I had to force feed him baby food with an oral syringe because he wouldn't eat on his own. However, a few days ago he was picking at the dry and wet food which surprised me and puzzled me. I know all about liver disease and how the patient does not want to eat. I've seen cats that aren't eating eat a pretty good meal right before they die. So as much as I wanted to be excited that he was eating, I had my doubts. But never in a million years did I think yesterday would have been his last.

He seemed bonier than even the day before, but not horrible. He had been hiding out in my walk-in closet so I decided to put the litterbox in there for him in case he was weak and didn't want to walk to it. As I was moving the box, Gregory started crying. I picked him up and talked to him for about 20 minutes. I was going to get a blanket for him to lay on and when I put him down, he started crying again. Not a panicked cry, but a little scared cry. It was heartbreaking. So I picked him up and held him like a baby on his back, because he seemed most comfortable that way. He was tilting his head back because he couldn't breathe. I just sat with him for around an hour just talking softly to him and kissing him. I knew it was near the end. Then all of a sudden, he started having a little seizure. I ran out to the kitchen to get my husband and I just lost it. I couldn't even get the words out. I told my husband to call a vet so we can have him euthanized without him suffering. Of course, on a Saturday, our vet isn't available and apparently neither is any other vet. There are two emergency clinics but they are about an hour away and I knew he'd never make it and I didn't want him suffering that long.

As my husband looked for another vet, I told him to just stop. I knew it was soon. Chuck and I just sat with Gregory in my arms, talking to him, telling him how much we loved him and just bawling our eyes out. Then Gregory took two very deep breaths and was gone. He fought so hard.

Since my husband hasn't been home, it almost seemed like Gregory waited until he was there. And he totally didn't want to be alone...he wanted me to hold him, which is comforting. Of course, I tend to blame myself when this happens. I shouldn't have let him get so overweight....with all my experience I should have seen the disease coming. But, of course, its moot. I feed all my cats the same amount...some are skinny, some are fat. Its their makeup.

I'm having a private cremation and getting his ashes back. Unfortunately, the pet cemetery hasn't returned my phone call as they are closed all weekend. I'll have to wait until Monday. Gregory is wrapped in a blanket and he's in the downstairs bathroom. I don't keep looking at him because well, for one thing, its not him anymore...he's gone, its just his earthly shell. And when they pass, they don't even look like themselves. But just seeing the box with the blanket....I hate to have to go in there.

Gregory was such a personality, such a presence. I miss him so much already.