Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Tink died tonight
She died in my hands.
I can't stop crying.
She shouldn't have died. She was getting better. I thought so, anyway.
Then, tonight, I found her hunched in a little ball, and kind of swaying, or heaving, as if her breathing was labored. But she wasn't making any noise, no wheezing. When I picked her up, she bit me viciously, several times. So she must have been feeling really bad.
Then she just sat, all hunched up, with her eyes closed, and her body heaving in that weird way. I stroked her little head for a while. She was making her clicking noise, really really faintly. Maybe I should have put her back in her cage. I don't know. She hadn't eaten her food, or drank her water, for a day. I put some tofu near her, and some water, but she turned her back on them. It was the first time I've seen her uninterested in fresh scents. And when she did that, I noticed she wasn't using her hind legs. She was dragging herself forward with her front legs, only. I tried to drop some chicken broth down her throat, but she wasn't swallowing. Then she made a funny gurgling noise, and opened her mouth really wide, like she was gasping for breath, and her good eye went really big. And that's how she died. She stopped moving after that, and went limp, and wasn't breathing.
I closed her eye, and her mouth, and curled her up in her favorite sleep position. I've wrapped her up in soft tissues.
I've cried and cried, and still can't stop. Maybe I killed her. Maybe I made her choke. Maybe the chicken broth went into her lungs and she couldn't breathe. Maybe my handling her when she was so ill made her have a heart attack. Maybe if I had just left her alone. Maybe if I had noticed earlier, and gotten her to eat earlier.
God, I miss her so much already. The apartment is so quiet. I'm going to bury her up in the wilderness at the end of Lake Ave, with her favorite rock. It's really beautiful there. It's a good place for her.
So, this is the end of the blog. There isn't much point to it, without Tink.
I can't stop crying.
She shouldn't have died. She was getting better. I thought so, anyway.
Then, tonight, I found her hunched in a little ball, and kind of swaying, or heaving, as if her breathing was labored. But she wasn't making any noise, no wheezing. When I picked her up, she bit me viciously, several times. So she must have been feeling really bad.
Then she just sat, all hunched up, with her eyes closed, and her body heaving in that weird way. I stroked her little head for a while. She was making her clicking noise, really really faintly. Maybe I should have put her back in her cage. I don't know. She hadn't eaten her food, or drank her water, for a day. I put some tofu near her, and some water, but she turned her back on them. It was the first time I've seen her uninterested in fresh scents. And when she did that, I noticed she wasn't using her hind legs. She was dragging herself forward with her front legs, only. I tried to drop some chicken broth down her throat, but she wasn't swallowing. Then she made a funny gurgling noise, and opened her mouth really wide, like she was gasping for breath, and her good eye went really big. And that's how she died. She stopped moving after that, and went limp, and wasn't breathing.
I closed her eye, and her mouth, and curled her up in her favorite sleep position. I've wrapped her up in soft tissues.
I've cried and cried, and still can't stop. Maybe I killed her. Maybe I made her choke. Maybe the chicken broth went into her lungs and she couldn't breathe. Maybe my handling her when she was so ill made her have a heart attack. Maybe if I had just left her alone. Maybe if I had noticed earlier, and gotten her to eat earlier.
God, I miss her so much already. The apartment is so quiet. I'm going to bury her up in the wilderness at the end of Lake Ave, with her favorite rock. It's really beautiful there. It's a good place for her.
So, this is the end of the blog. There isn't much point to it, without Tink.
