Harvest Moon

Luna’s health doesn’t seem to be improving after her visit to the vet. If anything, she has gotten markedly worse. While the steroids did increase her appetite for the first day, she continued to weaken further over the weekend. Whatever benefit the steroids initially provided has been overwhelmed by her steadily waning constitution. It’s all she can do to walk two feet from her heated bed, so I’ve provided her with a bowl of water and a tray of food she won’t (or can’t) eat.

So sadly, I’ve called the vet this morning to have Luna put to sleep late today. I love that cat too much to watch her suffer; starving, laboring to breath, collapsed on the floor because she can no longer walk. I feel terrible she’s had to endure this long, and I want to minimize that as much as possible.

Twenty-one years is a long time for a cat to live, and if I’m being honest with myself, she wasn’t even really “all there” for the last year or so. But despite being a bit slow to move, she still got around the house OK. The heated bed really was the last sign, though. Once she started spending all of her time there, it’s as if she was using it for some long-needed relief. I suspect that maybe her arthritis was bothering her more than she was letting on.

Regardless, it’s time for her to rest. I’ve literally had this cat for half of my life, which is saying something at 43. She’s earned a break after all of that. Given that she went into heart failure back in 2008, she’s been a remarkable survivor until now.

Rest well, Luna.