This is Coo. She is, as you may be able to guess, my cat. Today, she died.
I got her when she was a kitten and I was six, which means that she was seventeen years old. Until two days ago, she seemed to be holding up well for her age–she’d hardly slowed down at all, still trotted happily up and down stairs and complained at us constantly (as she seemed to enjoy). Yesterday, my mom called to tell me that there was something wrong. She wasn’t walking properly, and seemed totally disinterested in her surroundings. Most importantly, she had stopped talking. By the time I got home yesterday evening, she’d retreated to the basement (safe from the dog), and I knew as soon as I saw her that I’d have to say goodbye. She’s always been a relatively alert cat, following any activity in the room and occasionally chiming in with a meow or ten, but she didn’t even raise her head to say hello when I went to see her.
Today we took her to the vet, who confirmed what I suspected, that she’d had a stroke. And then we pet her and told her we loved her, and then she was put to sleep, and she went so quickly that we knew it was a relief for her to be able to just let go.
Bye, Coo. Enjoy your next adventure. I’m sure I’ll see you teleporting into my dreams every once in a while, per usual.