I’m on a sort of death watch this week. Our 10-year-old buff tabby cat Quincy is undoubtedly dying of lymphoma. While it’s true that I’m grateful to a point that I’m not going through this with a person, it doesn’t lessen the fact that Quincy is still a beloved family member, albeit a furry one.
I’ve warned the kids as much as possible, knowing that any day could bring the difficult decision to the forefront. Unfortunately, this ain’t my first rodeo and I’ve had to make the heart-wrenching determination for many cats before Quincy. It’s the timing that’s the hardest: You don’t want to be left feeling that you either waited too long or not long enough. Continue reading