Farewell, Miss Wu

     Rannie Wu, Tam's cat Random Numbers J. Wu of the Underfoot Wu sept, has departed this world.

     She had been sick off and on since Autumn, fighting a sinus infection that kept coming back; she'd get over it, go for a month or a week or a few days and get sniffly again.  The vet had begun talking to Tam about quality of life issues, and of the importance of evaluating how the ancient and venerable Wu was coping.  At eighteen and a half, her age was roughly 90 in people years.  She'd been fighting kidney disease for at least four years.

     The most recent sinus infection, she wasn't bouncing back from.  Early this week, the vet gave her subcutaneous fluids and renewed her antibiotic prescription.  She took the drugs well, but she'd stopped eating and nothing would tempt her.  Then she stopped drinking.  She was still sleeping in the crook of my elbow every night.   She was spending her days on my bed atop a woolly throw or in her cat-egg on the window seat in the dining room, and painfully making her way to a register any time the furnace ran, so she could bask in the warm air.  But she kept losing weight.  She had stopped blinking.

     She was already scheduled to return to the vet for further evaluation and hydration in the coming week.  Tam rescheduled the appointment for this morning.

     Rannie was limp as a dishrag and painfully thin.  She slept in her usual spot and even went to the register while I was getting cleaned up but she was listless.  She'd been crying out in pain the last several days.

     At the vet's, the doctor gave Rannie a thorough exam, then consulted with Tam and they decided it was time.  We were able to spend quite awhile with Rannie Wu.  Poor, dear Rannie Wu.

     I miss her.  What a fine cat she was, and how long she carried on.