Eddie died today. It's weird to write that. Yes, he died, but we didn't make it happen. Or did we? This is the first time ever in my life that a pet of mine died on me without veterinary intervention. That sounds so clinical.
Dying must be easy. Every thing and every body does it (as far as I know - jellyfish might actually be immortal, though not in the individual sense, but whatever). It takes no special talent. I have a little cactus out on the deck rail that would tell you all of this, without mentioning that I left it out there during an ice storm and deep freeze. It's dead, after all, or at least I hope so for its own sake.
Last summer I put it outside as I usually do. When I brought it in in October, it unleashed a plague of gnats. Gnats which seemed to gravitate toward my laptop screen.
The plant had been a gift. A gift from a friend and the young, troubled child she was taking to Disneyland when the girl made her grades as promised. The child who went to Disneyland was an absolute entitled beast to my friend who took her there. Chalk that up to learning no manners because of intermittent homelessness, sketchy 'step dads', mom who doesn't care, and open drug use in the family. I'd nursed this cute little cactus along for eight years or so. I didn't want a houseplant. Because cats.
So this sweet little cactus. I don't think its dying was easy. Certainly wasn't voluntary. I'll admit the neglect, and I'll also admit that it was an unwanted gift, without apology.
Our little Edgar Allan Poe never bothered the cactus, because he was enormously fat back in those days and couldn't get up on the kitchen counters. Over the course of the next 5 years or so, we took 18+ lbs. off him, carefully, slowly, with our vets' instructions. And we had to make 'steps' for him to get to his food in the MIL kitchen.
Age caught up with him, and his kidneys started to slow down. We changed his diet to lower the protein load. His appetite decreased, we lured him with Churu (which worked for a day) and although we gave him lots of subcutaneous fluids, his body was tired.
The body knows. I am sorry I disturbed him today with fluids. He died within 45 minutes of that last ministration, and not as peacefully as one would hope.
Forgive me, Edgar, I chose you and I will always love you. And forgive me cactus, but there is only so much I am willing to do.