, , , , , , , , ,

Back when Eric was in town, Asia had gotten to her worst. She was still a tiny bit lively when Andrea was visiting, but in the few short days after, she’d grown extremely weak and quiet.

Let me refresh your memory. When I arrived in Denver, Asia was diagnosed with Liver Disease.

I wish I would’ve googled it. I wish I would’ve known how bad it would get, and how sudden it would be.

I was under the impression that one day Asia would just go to sleep and not wake up. Naive of me to think that. I tricked myself into thinking that starving to death from liver disease would be peaceful.  I didn’t want to take her in to be put down because she still seemed very happy and normal. Yes she was thinning, quickly. But that’s what happens when you don’t eat. I was told that her hunger wasn’t causing her any pain, she just wasn’t hungry. No appetite.

I tried everything to get her to eat. Everything. I started with the supplements from the veterinarian. They just made her angry, and then later she just started throwing them back up at me. I’m pretty sure she was doing it on purpose. “NO MOM I will NOT let you put that stuff down my throat again!”

Then I tried switching to more natural methods. Then I bought supplements that I added to her water. I bought her treats. I started feeding her food off my plate. Anything to get her to eat. She refused. I eventually gave in. I stopped trying. I knew she didn’t have long left and I wasn’t going to spend her final weeks with her hating and avoiding me. I left food all over the house. I purposely left food on my plate after dinner and out on the coffee table. She wasn’t interested.

We went into snuggle mode. If I was home, I was in bed and she was curled up on  me. If I was on the couch, she was next to me. If I was in the shower, she was sitting in the bathtub at the back, waiting. When I was cooking dinner she was laying across the tops of my feet.  She was obviously sick…. no cat snuggles that much. She just wanted her mommy as much as possible.

After Andrea left Asia stopped coming out from under the bed. My mom told me she was probably going into hiding, knowing she was going to die soon. It broke my heart. I didn’t force her to come out, but I’d crawl into bed and call her sometimes, hoping she’d make her way out. She would now and then, but for the most part she stayed away.

I highly advise you stop reading now if you aren’t comfortable reading the rest of Asia’s story. I’m not going to go into too much detail, but it’s heartbreaking nonetheless for me, and any one else out there who has a heart.

Eric came, and during his visit we went out Saturday night. We arrived home shortly after two and I walked into my bedroom to the sound of Asia screaming. There is no other way to describe it. I shot out of bed and to the floor and found her dragging herself out. The sound of my voice pulled her out from hiding and I scooped her up. She cried and cried. Through the night she got quieter, and the sound became more of a whine with each breathe. I was a mess. She had absolutely no strength left. She couldn’t hold her head up or move her limbs. I cradled her and held her head in the palm in my hand and just held her close all night.

If I had known the pain she going to endure in the final hours, I never, ever would’ve let it go this far. But honestly just hours before, when I was getting ready to go out, she was mostly normal. She came out of hiding to rub her face on my face and play in the water bowl at the foot of my bed. She was normal. The 2am change was dramatic.

At this point, it was too late. She was going to die in my arms and I knew that. I held her for six hours. I will skip the details of what her body went through in that time. I’m haunted by the pain she was in. I’m haunted by the effect on her body in the final moments. I’m a mess.

She died at 8:10am, Sunday August 25th. She was six and a half years old.

I don’t apologize for how incredibly emotional I am towards the death of my cat. I’m not a crazy cat lady. I’m just a girl who loved her pet, and now her pet is gone. I expect her at the door every time I come home. I expect to hear her little stomps when she runs through the house. I expect to feel her tail swatting against my legs and her body nearly tripping me with every step I take. But she’s not there.

I buried her in the mountains, overlooking a large field where buffalo live naturally. It’s a beautiful spot, quiet, where not a lot of people go since it’s off the beaten path. I’m happy with that.