Wednesday, February 3, 2016


Our cat, Luke, has taken to his bed to die.

He's lost half his body weight and doesn't walk around any more.

But he is seemingly pain free, so we aren't taking him to be put down.

Bern lifts him out of bed and stands him up to drink water several times today. He hasn't really eaten since Saturday. She washes, dries and brushes him twice daily. He really likes that.

We've put his bed in our TV room and one of us is with him most of the time. We rub his head and he still purrs a bit.

It is so hard to see him ending like this. Luke has been a great cat--huge and yellow and puppy like--he always came when we called him.

He was so loving and active and curious.

Now he mostly sleeps, waiting for what comes next, I suppose...though I can't know that.

I miss him as a well cat. I will miss him greatly in what I hope, for him, is a short time now.

He has been deeply loved. Will be still.

It is hard to lose a pet. Having been able to care for him and say good-bye has meant a lot to us. I only hope his comforts have been met.

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some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.