We had to put my parents' cat to sleep this past Saturday. We adopted her from a shelter around this time about 15 years ago. We got her when she was a year old, so we assume she was about 16. Her name was Pepsi back then, but we changed it after we got her to make it more special.
Pepper was just about the best cat ever. I know everyone says that, but I really mean it. She was super friendly and loved attention. She used to curl up next to me in my bed and had the loudest purr I've ever heard. She also enjoyed tummy rubs and sitting on laps. She would greet us at the door when we returned home and would come to us whenever we called her.
Pepper's health had been poor lately. She lost a ton of weight. Even skinnier than when we first got her. Saturday morning, she wasn't eating her food or drinking water anymore, and started hiding under the bed. It was time to go. My mom called to let me know and I drove over as fast as I could to help take her to the vet with my dad.
Holding her in the car was surreal. In mere minutes, I knew that this little kitty was going to be lifeless. I think it's harder to lose a pet because they can't tell what's happening. At least when humans get old, we know what's coming. We know why things are happening, but for animals, there's no way to tell them.
I kept my face in front of Pepper's eyes during the entire procedure so that I would be the last thing she saw, as well as hopefully provide a little bit of comfort. She lived to see both my kids, and I'm thankful for that. I miss her.
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