I last blogged about my darling little cat (by the way, her name is Mouse), a year ago.
She is still with me, but I'm not sure for how much longer. In the time between then and now, she's had a couple of set-backs - acute cystitis in September and then dehydration because of vomiting in January. Today she is back at the vet with another bout of cystitis. The vet is pretty confident that we can get her over this in 48-72 hours but her underlying kidney disease is progressing rather swiftly. He feels that it will be no more than a matter of months before I have to let her go. She will be 20 in June - a grand age for a cat - and she has lived a good, happy life during which she has been pretty well adored by everyone she met.
Mouse has been happy, playful, friendly, charming and comical her whole, long life and I have been there for all of it. I know all of that in my head but my heart is breaking because it feels like I haven't had enough years with her. There will never have been enough years with her.
April sucks.
