Karen Jo: I want to thank all of you for purring so hard for Emma. It really means a whole lot to me. This is the most recent picture that I have of Emma that shows her and her personality well. She ran off to the Rainbow Bridge last night. It all happened so dang fast. Tuesday she was running and playing and being my lap cat and Saturday night she's gone. I keep asking myself if I missed something, but I don't think I did, really. She was a bit more subdued after the fight with Herman, but not much. She was a bit more leery of Herman, but I thought that quite normal. The vet checked her over very carefully and there was no sign of any injury. Wednesday, she hid all day. Thursday she was lethargic and I whisked her off to the vet, who found nothing. Friday she was weaker, but still jumped up in the easy chair to sleep on the fake sheepskin cushion. Saturday she seemed about the same during the day. She was moving around the room, though very slowly. I sat with her for over an hour starting about 4:00. She was over by her bed, soaking up the heat from the heat vent and I went over and spent some time petting her. She made some funny little noises, like she was maybe in a little bit of pain, so I stopped petting her and went to the easy chair to read. After a bit, she walked over to lie beside the chair, where I could easily reach her and I started petting her again. I kept on petting her until I had to get up to go to the bathroom. When I got back, she was in her hidey-hole, too far back for me to reach her. I checked on her hourly, but she stayed in her hidey-hole until I found her in the litter box at 9:00. She had gotten in and done her business, then hadn't the strength to get out again. When I picked her up to put her on the floor, she was so limp that I think I knew, deep down, that she wouldn't last the night. I got the syringe and gave her some baby food because I didn't want to believe it. I petted her and talked to her, but she was very unresponsive. I left her and left the light on because I didn't want her to be in the dark I came back at 10:00 and gave her some more baby food, petted her and talked to her, again with very little response. I stayed as long as I could, but seeing her like that was more than I could bear for long. When I came back at 11:00 she seemed cool to the touch and I think she had already gone, but I didn't want to believe it. When I checked her at midnight, there was no denying it. Rigor mortis had set in.
I slept very little last night. I wrote her a limerick, because I had to do something other than lie in bed and wonder if I could have done anything differently. I will be posting it a little later. She is still there on the floor of her room. This morning, I opened the door to her room and took Herman back to see her. He sniffed her paw for quite a while, then went around to his little hidey-hole under the sewing machine. He was attracted to her food, but kept looking back at Emma. Finally, he reached out and very gently touched her paw. Then he nibbled on her kitten food and left the room. In a little bit I will go out and find the shovel and see if the soil is frozen or if I can dig her a grave. There is a spot under the living room window just across from the bird feeder where I can bury her. If the soil is frozen, I will put her in the garage until tomorrow when I can contact the vet about having her cremated.
Most people stop blogging for a while after losing a loved one, but I think I will be blogging more. I need to keep my mind occupied and it's good to know that other kitties are having birthdays and gotcha days and house trashing parties. Goodbye, my dear sweet Emma. I will miss you so much.
