Losing Stella

 A few weeks ago, our beloved cat Stella had to be put to sleep.  She had had some months of ups and downs.  It was startling how quickly the final decline took hold, though.  One day  I was telling Scott that we needed to bring the cat sitter over to show her where Stella's food was ahead of a trip we were planning.  The next day, she stopped eating and didn't start eating again, no matter what we offered her.

I think euthanasia is one of the odder duties of pet ownership.  Nobody wants to have to make the decision about when an animal will die.  Yet, very little of it was truly in our hands.  Stella stopped eating when she stopped eating.  Ironically, it was a couple weeks before both Scott and I would be free for the summer, and not a great time for either of us to miss work.  But since death was inevitable, we wanted it to be quick and humane.  The vet who ultimately came to the house to euthanize her cautioned us against waiting too long.

The bright spot in the sad situation is that we both got to spend time with her at the end.  Due to a primary election in the district where I work, I had the day off the day before Stella died.  I had the opportunity to check in on her and see that she truly wasn't eating.  The day she died, Scott and I both made the call to just stay home.  We spent time with her until the vet arrived, and stayed with her, talking to her and petting her, throughout the process.

Perhaps inevitably, losing Stella made me think of when we lost our old cat Laila.  She was also euthanized after a series of ups and downs.  With Laila, I was less aware of signs of decline in cats.  I also didn't think to arrange at-home euthanasia, so one of her last actions in life was taking a car ride, which no cats really like.  I was also in the midst of my dreadful grad school 2.0 program, so I went to campus, and even dealt with a bunch of tiresome drama, before heading home to spend time with her before we took her to the vet.  This is a regret of mine.  I'm grateful that things were different this time for Stella and that I am no longer under such pressure to minimize actual life events (the principal at my school, who only rarely responds to emails I send when I need to take time off, responded about how sorry she was about my cat and encouraged me to stay home with her).

Right now, it just seems way too quiet at home.  We even miss the things that drove us nuts, like Stella consistently waking me up ten minutes before my alarm and yowling during our phone conversations.  She and Laila both added a lot to our lives--two very different kitties with very different quirks.  I think the best tribute to both of them is to give a home to another kitty, and I know in time we'll be ready to do that.