Last Thursday turned out to be a very difficult one for me. On Wednesday Tasha was at clinic receiving liquefaction, just like I wrote in the last entry. I got her back after 5 pm. She was quite much in the same condition I left her there in the morning. I was told that if she wouldn't eat at home there would be another day of clinic liquefaction on Thursday.
The miracle didn't happen. As I watched Tasha refuse to eat a thing my heart became heavier each moment. This cat didn't have a will to live anymore. This cat wanted to crawl somewhere to die. It was my only duty to give it to her.
Thursday morning dawned sleepless and I called the clinic to ask for an appointment. I got it. Once more I put Tasha into a crate and left to see the vet. I watched her withered little figure twitch for the last time and life escape from her eyes forever. Gently I covered her with a towel and lifted her into a box. I shook hands with the vet, thanking her of everything and carried my sweet little friend into the car. The heavy weight on my shoulders was gone. I had given my girl the last favour she needed. She was painless. She was free.
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