last chance to love

My sister Lynn skyped me the other night. She was crying. She'd taken her 12 yr old cat to the vet and was told he had only days to live.

Butch had a heart condition that was making it difficult for him to catch his breath or have any energy at all. He'd been eating, but losing weight for months. Lynn was overwhelmed with worry, sadness, and guilt. Guilt for not having taken him to the vet sooner, for having complained about having a cat, and for not giving him attention when he wanted it.

Guilt is such a waste of energy. I tried to get her to focus on what she had done right, and what she should do now. It was too late to save him, fix him, nurse him back to health. Butch was on his way home. I had hoped she would spend her last days loving him as best she could...telling him happy things about where he's going, wishing him a peaceful journey.

Easy for me to say, he wasn't my cat.

I didn't hear from Lynn for the next couple days. When I finally tried to reach her again, she didn't answer her phone. Finally I called my mom and got the word that Butch had died just that morning. I saw Lynn today. She is now going through the grieving process and she will be ok. But I did hear her relate how she sat with him a lot over his last full day and talked to him and reassured him that it was ok to go. Even in his suffering he purred as if to say I love you back. An animal's final act of selfless love.