bifurcated litany

At first I questioned Bill's decision to wait, but now I know that when the time comes, if possible, I will most likely do the same thing because the possibility of receiving a gift like the one we had with P. last night would be too enticing to pass up.

For the most part, last night was passed with Mr. P in a state of stupor that made it seem as if he'd already left us. And then, right as we were shutting the bedroom up so that we could go to sleep, Bill moved Penn from our bed into his own little wine box bed on the floor so that we wouldn't unknowingly punt him off during our sleep. He spent a few seconds in the box before standing up, staggering the four steps across the floor, and performing the most amazing feat of strength by launching himself halfway up our bed and then scrabbling with his back feet until he pulled himself up into the bed. Penn looked at me drunkenly and then flopped down on the bed. "Wow, I guess he really wants to be with us." Bill said, and we stared at one another for a few seconds, shocked by the short vision of the old, stubbornly lovable Penn.

This morning, after passing the stony night of silence (I'm serious, his breath wasn't even making a sound), he greeted us with loud purring. He hasn't purred for the last two days, which is unheard of for him. I like to think it was his way of letting us know he loved us for letting him sleep with us last night.

I have no more words. This is exceptionally difficult to watch, as it has been one of my cats who indirectly caused Penn's segregation the last two years (Penn attacked Geneva the week before the wedding and has never lost the taste for her blood). I feel an immense amount of guilt for the way he has lived his life, and while everyday I asked Bill if he'd pet his cat yet, if he'd told his cat how much he loved him, and if he'd checked on Penn's water or food, it doesn't make up for this shitty situation at all.

Peace out, Penndle.

Comments

[ren]

Don't feel guilty...sometimes the blending works and sometimes it doesn't, and he's had such a great year having you around every day, there's no reason for guilt at all. It doesn't make it any easier and it doesn't make it fair and it's a shitty end to the problem, but Penn loves you and you love him, enough to give him the biggest gift of all--peace and an end to the pain. I'm sorry for you both and sorry for him and sending large hugs and kisses.