Goodbye Papaya

Well Lovelies, It's been almost a week since my darling Papaya and I said goodbye for now:( She was 18 and had been doing poorly for several months; the week of her euthanization she and I both knew the time had come. I called up the vet the day before, so I could arrange transportation and so my P. Nut and I could have one last night of cuddles. We spent the rest of the day in Papaya's favorite room of my condo, the living room, watching TV while she slept in her "little pink house"-- a cozy domed nook I got for her before I'd even adopted her. I supplied her with lots of fresh water with CBD gummies disolved in it, and all the food she asked for. Her one remaining tooth hurt her so badly, as did her failing kidneys, I didn't even bother looking at dose recommendations. What my baby wanted, my baby got. The morning of, as early as I could stand to see her go, my poor sweet Papaya's meows were so much quieter than usual. She was very, very tired. Eighteen years of outliving everyone she'd ever loved had taken their toll on her; she was ready to join them. And I was frankly relieved to be able to do one last good thing for her, even though I will miss her. Grief is an amazing thing. I've known enough of it now that I know how it feels, how to deal with it,and that it won't last forever. And as I've always said, I knew at the start I wouldn't have Papaya with me forever. Even so. My desire to accomplish anything around the house or even to cook has up and gone. All I really feel like doing is sleeping "til this is over"--whenever that may be. I keep expecting Papaya to follow me into a room. I still have the step stool she was supposed to use in her old age (but never needed) to get onto the bed. When I go out on the deck I'm taken aback by the silence. She used to yowl for me to "get back in the house!" every time I went anywhere. Her litter box still remains in its corner, filled with litter! Such are the stages of saying goodbye. I can't let go as easily as I thought I would, but this blog post is a big step. Eventually I'll find peace with being alone again.