This is going to be one of the hardest blog posts I will ever have to write. It’s hard because I am bad—really bad—at being vulnerable and opening up and trusting others and asking for any kind of help. I get flustered and scared and usually end up saying something phenomenally stupid. I wanted to get that out of the way up front, just in case. This could get awkward as fork, y’all. Here goes…
Poppy is not doing well. She’s not super interested in food. The only thing she’ll eat is Gerber’s pureed Chicken/Turkey baby food (the kind that is just chicken or turkey, nothing else) with a little bit of pumpkin mixed into it. She’s drinking water but seems to be eliminating it almost as soon as she consumes it. She’s having a hard time getting around and can’t stand or sit up for very long. She purrs for me and likes to use my hand as a pillow, but mostly she’s just hanging out on one of her perches (I have to lift her onto it and off of it).
I’m pretty sure it’s time. I’m pretty sure she’s hanging on because she knows how much I love her and how much losing her will hurt me. I’m trying to be strong for her. I’ve told her that if she needs to go, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. I love her always and I don’t want her to suffer so if she needs to go, I want her to go. Her body seems to be quickly becoming more of a prison than a house and nobody wants that.
If she were younger, I’d take her to the vet and hope there was some form of treatment we could do that would save her. But Poppy is 18. She’d turn 19 next month. She is a very old lady and hates leaving our room and dislikes pretty much all other humans. I think the stress of traveling to and from a veterinarian’s office (not to mention the visit itself) would be too stressful and cause more harm than good.
So yeah… if things don’t turn around in the next few days I think…it’s time.
I am not okay. I’ve been preparing myself for this a little bit at a time for a long while now, but there is no such thing as being completely ready to lose a loved one. My heart is shattering into a billion pieces and I am completely falling apart. I try not to cry in front of her because I know it stresses her out, but I can’t stand spending more than a minute or two away from her, just in case.
I was supposed to spend this week working my tail off doing driving shifts for Amazon Flex, Instacart, DoorDash, and UberEats to earn money for my big storage unit payment due next Monday (around $800 that covers four months) and if I don’t pay it, my storage unit goes up for auction on Tuesday. Then there’s the cost of compassionate care, end of life transition and cremation for Poppy, when it’s time, which will also cost about $700.
And you know what, if I lose my storage unit, I’ll be okay. I’ll miss some of it but ultimately, I’ll be okay. It’s just stuff.
But I don’t want Poppy to have to suffer. I don’t want her to have to hang on longer than she has to…and I don’t want to leave her alone during what might be the last days of her life. The idea of her passing while I’m not here…I can’t, y’all. I can’t. Even the thought of it makes it hurt too much to breathe.
So I need help. Please understand that I am not actually asking for money. I know that’s the logical progression of this type of post and if you would like to send some funds to help out, that would be lovely. I won’t turn them away. And if you want to manifest someone who wants to hire me for whatever I can do from my spot next to Poppy, that would be awesome.
What I’m actually asking for and really need here is…support. Good vibes. Hug vibes. Good thoughts, mojo, whatever. I need you. I need my people and I can’t go to you because I can’t (and wouldn’t even if I could) leave my best friend.
Plus, if we’re being brutally honest, I’d probably just make some stupid joke, insist that I was fine and then wait until I was by myself to cry myself inside out. I’m healthy that way.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading all of this. I appreciate you all. I have no eloquent way to end this post, so…
Thank you, control tower. Over and out.
I am so sorry you’re going through this. It is not an easy time and it is so hard to know when it’s time for that final trip. When we had to let go of our cat we waited for her to let us know, to be sure, and when she tried to walk off a second story balcony, we knew. When we took her in, the vet agreed she was ready. We had to take the day off work and we were a wreck for the day. It’s going to be okay.
I know it’s hard to believe, but it will be okay. In a week, a month, a year.
I only know you through a couple of in-person meetings and this para-social relationship of social media, but I know you have given Poppy a good home and a good life. You’re that kind of person.