I miss the days when I didn’t – couldn’t – cry.

I’m currently on day four of a crying jag, which began this past week, when my Eldest had to make the painful decision to have their cat, Lila, put down.

Lila was an older rescue cat, who had been with us for just over 5 years. She’s recently been off her feed, and wasn’t drinking water, so Eldest took her to the vet. Our regular vet was booked up, but recommended another one in the area. On examination, she was severely dehydrated, and her blood labs were off the tracks in the bad zones. The vet offered hospitalization, but only gave a 50% chance of survival, and even then, she likely only had a few months at best, and she would be in pain for much of it. The decision was made.