It seems 2020 is not done with me yet. Yesterday I had to say goodbye to Hoover.
The day started like any other. He had his customary second breakfast and seemed fine.
He had been going downhill rapidly lately but I was very happy to see he was up on the kitty table waiting for me when I got up. By afternoon things took a terrible turn. I could tell he was agitated. His breathing was off. By late afternoon he was in full pant and coughing up fluid. What followed was a desperate ride to the emergency vet clinic all the way in Annapolis. It didn't look good. He was in heart failure. It was time to let go.
Earning your kitty wings in the time of Covid is hard. You can't be with them. They bring them outside to a little tent for you to say goodbye and they are wide awake and begging to go home. Those kitty paws digging at me pleading to take him in my arms and leave with him will haunt me forever. Walking away from him was terrible. Terrible. I'm broken. So broken.
I have a lot of cats but Hoover was MY kitty because I was HIS. He loved me like a dog loves someone. He followed me around all day long. I didn't know him long. He showed up on the deck in 2015 and adopted me. He was an old cat then and only got so much older but of all the cats I've ever had he was the ONE and I will miss him terribly.
Rest in peace my sweet boy. It was so hard to let you go.
Death in the time of Covid stinks.
I said I was broken and I am.
I am taking a blog break until December 1st.
No one needs to hear the things I feel like writing at the moment.