dedilliterati

It's said that Alexander the Great sat down and cried after he had conquered the known empire. What if the known empire was a cat instead?

I'm a selfish bastard.

I watched my cat dying of tumors, go into seizures, and botch her attempts at walking; unable to care for herself; incapable of moving more than a few feet.

I thought that I could give her all of the love that she needed to die happily.

I had a meeting today, so I went to it. Courtney had the rest of the afternoon off. I was supposed to be back home by 2:30, but the meeting went well after. I came home perhaps five minutes after Courtney had left.

I was angry. I am mad at myself, mad at her, and sad because I was not there with my cat in her final moments. I wanted to be there with and for her.

It was my fault that I didn't call. Courtney decided that the pain was too much, and that the cat had to be put down.

I had watched it deteriorate from a lovely feline, to a degenerated mess; dirty; weak; sick; hurt, and I ate it all up. I fed on that death as if it were my Alexandrian empire.

When I came home, I found that there was nothing left.

Ian