Well, yesterday at around 11:30 am, Luanne passed away. It's not quite that simple, but I can't get into all the details right now.
I'm really sad. I feel like I'm sadder than when my grandmother, uncle or cousin died. I know time is severely compressed for cats, but they had all been sick for so long that the possibility of death seemed more imminent. Plus, I wasn't directly caring for any of them on a daily basis. Even though they were people and family, I think that proximity to illness is a factor in how much this hurts.
As you can see from the dates in the title, Luanne wasn't even two years old yet. What sucks is that just a couple of weekends ago (on June 24 and 25) she seemed to really be starting to adjust to her anemia. She started jumping around onto things and into windows that she'd ignored for weeks. She jumped up in my lap and curled up there for a bit. She even spent most of Saturday night that weekend in bed with HUBS and I. The power had gone out and I think she was nervous. After chasing a little flying creature around on our dresser in the light of a flashlight, she jumped right over to the bed and curled up between us.
It was pretty sudden, on Monday she was fine. On Tuesday morning she took a turn and died on us.
Luanne's most recent nickname was Poodle Paws
I'm always going to wonder if I had done just one, or two or maybe three things differently if she would still be with us. Long enough for her birthday at least. I am glad for the time we had with her, though.
And yet, I'm still really sad.
