You know this day will come, even when you bring home a sweet baby kitty. And yet, as my husband always says, “We are never ready”. Buddy was less than eight weeks old when we adopted him, so tiny and taken too soon from his mother.
Thirteen years later, our vet has recently diagnosed Buddy with kidney disease, a progressive illness for which there is no cure.
And so we are trying to prepare for our beloved Buddy’s long goodbye.
All we can do is change both the kitties’ diet to food designed to promote kidney health, hoping to stall Buddy’s end. I am tired, stressed and depressed, constantly on “Buddy alert”, watching his every move.
Despite many subtle changes in Buddy’s behavior that suggest he is no longer the kitty we once knew, he is still enjoying his food and spends his afternoons sunbathing. He is surrounded the best care we can give and all the love any kitty ever experienced.
Poor Daisy, seven months younger, misses Buddy grooming her and their shared naps together. Buddy is giving off signals that he likes more alone time, although he will still jump in my lap and spend some of the night sleeping on my pillow. I’m trying to give Daisy more attention and lots of love, just as I do her big brother. She used to love holding hands with Bud.
So, we will watch and wait, trying to keep our anticipatory grief under control – Larry does a much better job than do I. Buddy’s prognosis is for about a year more of a life that I plan to make as enjoyable as possible. Our kitties are the children I never had, and they both deserve the very best as they approach their endgame.
Please hold a good thought for dear Buddy.