Two sweet kitties, sisters who have not spent a day apart, have made a home with me for the past eight years. My little guardian angels watch over me as much as I do likewise. There has never been a bad day they didn’t comfort me, bring me joy, or banish loneliness. They have made every house a place to feel home.

Lily now has an aggressive lymphoma. It’s obstructing her ability to breathe through her nose. She is still eating and coming to the door when I get home and jumping on the sink to drink from the faucet (her favorite). It’s not her time yet, but that time is getting near. I’m doing my best to spoil her, give her as much yogurt as she likes, give her as many pets as she asks for even when it makes me quite late to work (no one seems to mind).

The vet and I just spoke about how to decide when to let her go. My friend who is a veterinary technician spoke to me a few days ago, and was infinitely more caring and comforting. I’ve been thinking of where to lay her to rest back home. A particular spot keeps coming to mind, where there used to live pigs, with a shady tree and not much foot traffic besides grazing cows and donkeys.

I am intermittently sobbing my eyes out, or in denial (“other than this nose tumor, she seems fine” which I realize is absurd). We have good communication, me and these kitties. Lily will tell me when she needs to go, when I tell her that I can handle it. She will hang on too long if I can’t be ready. I’m not sure how I will ever be ready. :’(