I don't know if I can go on.  Just to write this is extremely difficult.

I just got back from the vet's, where I just said my goodbyes to my baby cat, Jabara.  He was thirteen years old; had him ever since he was a newborn kitten. 

My cat, a lovely brown classic tabby Maine Coon, gave me thirteen years of laughter, love, countless hours of entertainment, and companionship.  He was the best friend anyone could have ever asked for!

Up until a month ago, he enjoyed good health.  Then he started getting painful lumps on the back of his legs.  Eventually, these bumps became too painful for him to walk; I grew concerned, so I took him to the vet. 

The vet had very bad news:  Jabara had a rare, aggressive form of cancer.  Tumors had popped up on his legs; this was what was causing him increasing discomfort.  She gave me medicine to help with the pain and said for me to try to keep him comfortable.  He then started losing weight:  his once massive bulk was replaced by skin and bones:  he shrunk down to half his normal size.  Jabara looked like a shell of his former self; it was heartbreaking to see.

She told me to try to keep feeding him; I tried my best, but he was soon unable to eat.  I had to forcefeed him every four hours with the help of a syringe that I stuck into his mouth.  Soon he stopped eating; he did nothing but lie there and sleep most of the day; when he was awake, he'd cry out; it was obvious he was in severe pain.  He'd also lose control of his bowels and bladder; I had to clean up after him.

In addition, Jabara would start gagging and gasping for air; it was soon clear that the cancer had spread throughout his emaciated body.  I knew I had to make the heartbreaking decision as to prolong his life or end it in a humane fashion, by having my vet give him a shot that would cause him to stop breathing and his heart to stop beating.

I cried like there was no tomorrow.  It was the worst moment of my life.

So this morning, at about nine, I gently wrapped Jabara in a nice, thick blanket, kissed him, and put him into his cat carrier.  I drove him to see Dr. Detreminos, his faithful vet; she and I saw him through many a scrap or illness; we went back a very long way.  Dr. Detreminos told me to bring Jabara into the back room, where I gently laid him on the table.  He was shaking as if going into a seizure (or was it fear?  I wasn't sure).  I could tell by his eyes he was very scared. 

Dr. D told me to spend some time with him, to reassure him that the end was soon near, and he'd go to sleep, free of pain, free of cancer, free of sickness.  I talked gently to him, stroking his fur, nuzzling his face, tickling his ears, trying to comfort him.  All this time, my heart was breaking in two.  I could barely see, for all the tears that were falling from my eyes.

While I was talking to my pet, Dr. D slipped the needle into his neck, where she then injected the powerful medication.  Not even five minutes later, he was gone.  My cat was now free.

The drive home was the longest one I could remember, even though I lived only five/ten minutes away; yet it seemed like hours.  Several times during the trip home, I had to pull to the side of the road as a new wave of sobbing overtook me.  My baby J, Jabara, my Maine Coon macho man, was now finally at peace, leaving me with a broken heart.

*To be continued.*