10SEP2002 Up early, trying to put off the inevitable. Logan phoned, talked to him for a while. I phoned the vet at 10:00 to make an appt to put LittleOne down, Kathy said to bring her in at 11:45. Had a tough time getting LittleOne from beneath our bed. That's where she's been sitting for weeks, right there in that same spot, day and night, as if she's afraid of something. Or, it may have been the sores on her skin causing her pain when she walked. I know she's deaf, perhaps her sight fails too. Yesterday the vet said her liver was worn out.

I Put her in the cage lined with my denim shirt and then put her outside for a while with some food. It was a sunny day with a light breeze, in the safety of the CatCage that fresh air must have felt good as she crunched those crunchies, purring quietly. I'll not forget those last few crunching sounds. I told Dixie the dog to say good bye, then put the CatCage in the back seat.

It took about three minutes to drive to the vets and right away we went to one of the rooms. No waiting today, oh no, instant service on this day. I suddenly felt as though I hadn't properly said good bye to LittleOne, whatever that should have been, I know not. I was now past the point of return. I felt as if I was on auto pilot, a puppet. LittleOne wouldn't come out of the cage this time, I had to pull her out backwards. I knew she was afraid, she let out a scream as I pulled on her. The vet made a joke about how LittleOne didn't want any part of this. I've dealt with this vet before, he's a cold hearted bastard. Why can't he keep his shit to himself? I held her while the vet gave her the 1st shot. He said he would be back in a few minutes as he left the room.

LittleOne slowly began to relax, her tongue went in and out as if she was trying to drink, the way tranquilized lions do on National Geographic. She convulsed once, shaking a little, slowly losing her grip on the smooth table she began to fall to her chest, finally relaxed and pain free, I held her arms and chin up. Then I realized I had the full weight of her head in my hands, how different she felt, now totally sedated, pupils so wide, staring at me. Her silent, possibly dark, painful world was about to end, and she didn't know it. I found a crunchy clamped inside the pads of her rear paw and thought of how that must have felt against that smooth table, did it make it harder to stand? She probably wondered why it was there and why she couldn't get it out. I rubbed her under her chin with both hands like I always had her whole life, and I made the sound that she had always come to "pssss pssss pssss". She was still purring and tried to lick my hand the way she always did. I fought back the waves of emotion one by one, I wanted to explode. My body trembled. Watery eyes distorted my vision. It was as if it wasn't me there doing this. Why was I doing this? Why in the fuck did I have to do this? I felt as though I was suddenly awoken and forced to do this to my cat. Was it really the best thing to do? Was I too hasty? What else could I have done?

The vet came back with a female assistant and he shaved LittleOnes right forearm, then he inserted the intravenus needle, her forearm bleeding just above the insertion from a cut where the vet had shaved her. I felt like ripping his fucking throat out for cutting my cat. He administered the anasthetic, LittleOne at this point couldn't feel anything. I held her the whole time, within a few minutes she was gone. The vet listened to her heart until it stopped, told me she was gone, then asked "do you want a bag or something?". I was barely able to say "no". I wrapped her up in the denim shirt and put her back in the cage. I couldn't get the latch shut and realized it didn't matter anymore.

I took her out to the front counter to pay. A lady said "oh what a neat idea" referring to the DairyLand plastic container CatCage LittleOne was in. I answered "It was . . .". She bent over to look in the cage, then abruptly turned away and walked out. I stepped up to the counter and paid, Kathy said, "You don't need the bill do you?" I said "yes I do". It would go into LittleOnes file with all her other important papers.

I drove home, surges of emotion aching to erupt as I held them in, as always. My headache was bad. I took the CatCage out of the back seat noticing LittleOnes bladder had let go as there was a little pee on the back seat. I placed the CatCage on the cement wall in the back yard then I got a cloth and wiped it up the pee. As I finished I looked up to see Dixie sniffing the CatCage, then putting her head down and retreating. Carla had to use the car to go right away to the hospital for a test.

I took LittleOne to the back and began to dig her grave. I layed her out on the shed step and ran my hands across her furry little body, she did not move. I closed her eyes. I held her dainty little back paws in my hands the way I always did. I squeezed her paws making the claws come out. The battle scars and cuts on her ears brought back memories of her youth in Burnaby. I was able to truly examine her hook tail for the first time. I still don't know if she was a Manx or if her tail was somehow severed. The warm sun would have felt so good to her since she rarely went outside these last few months. Her fur was just so warm. I realized that torn dew claw was growing back into the skin above, I imagined how it must have been for her when she caught that dew claw, she was always getting caught up on it, as a kitten I would rescue her, but this time I suppose no one was home and she tore it out. I opened her mouth and felt her teeth, thought about all the times she lovingly bit me on the index finger as we played. Her tongue was all the way out protruding out of her mouth a bit.

That was the hardest, to look at her there on that step, so warm and supple, so still, so silent. My good friend, my steadfast loyal companion of 20 years lying here on this step. She had given me so much. My world will never be the same. I told her to wake up but she would not, I wept there like a child ordering her to get up again and again. She would not. I held her and asked her to forgive me, she felt hard as if her inards were compressed together, lungs empty.

I placed her into the ground just above the apple tree Carly-Anna and I planted seven years ago, facing west, towards the ocean, tears dotted the denim shirt she was wrapped in as I covered her with dirt.

I will never forget the feeling of her losing her grip on that smooth table and the weight of her little head in my hands, eyes staring straight ahead into the void. I literally felt the life leave her. I have never felt so guilty in my life. LittleOne, please forgive me, wherever you are.

Love, your master.