just the words in the title brought a stream of tears. it’s hard to say goodbye to a purr, a meow and a constant game of follow-the-leader. it’s hard to hold his body in your hands and know that you can’t do anything more for him. it’s hard to think of not coming home to the jingle of his bell down the hallway as he runs meowing to greet you. dear friends, this is really hard for me. this is really hard.

matt and i made a very tear-jerking decision today to let go of my cheddar. we can’t do anything more to help him. we can’t do anything more to heal his worn out body. and no more improvements are being made in his health. so with runny nose and tears streaming i will be picking up my kitty, my furry from the vet. i couldn’t possibly live with myself if i had left him there to die in pain when we brought him in for his last diagnosis and examination. so all afternoon the medical staff has been pumping the urine from my kitty for the last time. and they will send home some pain medications which i will administer tomorrow every four to six hours to keep him comfortable as i say goodbye. i really can’t bear to think of not hearing his purr anymore or feeling his sweet little head-butting, begging for a good petting.

and i will be honest, dear friends, this sweet little kitty is going to be very hard for me to let go of. yes, he’s just a pet but that fact doesn’t make this any easier.

matt left for the Michigan funeral today at 3 something. i wanted to go, but i was needed here.

[break for the evening]

the evening went fairly well despite the circumstances. Robin came over for a few hours witnessing Cheddar’s last peak and most movement. we just sat on the couch talking about life. toward the end of her stay Cheddar started to get worse, me realising that he wasn’t blinking. Jenney came over a half hour after Robin. Jenney did well with Cheddar in light of his failing health. we just talked and monitored. and gave pain pills. and talked. and then the vomiting began again. and i knew it was going to be a long night. i prayed that God would just take him then.

at 1am my alarm went off and i gave him another dose of pain meds. his breathing now hard to decipher, his breaths so shallow. but sporadic movement of his head when i sat down with him. i coaxed the med down. i just don’t want him to be in pain in his last few breaths. 5:30am came evidence of more vomiting, attempts to clean him up a bit, more meds, and even shallower breathing. i couldn’t feel his breathing to the touch and yet a surveillance of his body and some movement revealed that he was still a shell of the cat i knew. i counted out the pills and i have enough to get him through tonight after matt comes home around 10-11pm. so he’ll be able to be medicated until thursday morning when we are able to go put him down. i just can’t muster up the strength yet to drive myself there to drop him off without matt. i know i wouldn’t be able to drive home. but the thought has crossed my mind to have a friend drive me.

but really i have hit a point of peace about Cheddar going. each time that i hold his frail body i just pray that he will give up. i want him to be painless. but a fighter he persists. and i’ll keep the 4-5 hour medicine doses until he either gives up or we can get him in to put him to sleep.

today’s going to be a long day. and i really wish matt were here to walk me through it, but i wish him to be at the funeral more. i wish him to be walking his dad through saying goodbye to his dad’s brother more. and i am blessed that despite being apart from him, God is giving me such a peace and a strength during these hard last few hours and this upcoming day. i love how God delivers when we haven’t even asked. and i trust his perfect timing with Cheddar’s departure.

i’m going to go take another nap and again pray that my sweet kitty, my little furry is able to close his eyes without my prompting and go to sleep without intention of waking. i love him so dearly and i just want him to be at rest. that’s best for him right now. and even though i would love for “best” to be defined as a healthy cat, i am not to definer. i am just trying to provide as much comfort as i possibly can.

love you, Cheddar. i have already missed you and i’m sure that’s not going to go away for a while. but i just want you not to have to fight anymore. i did what i thought was best. and what i thought was most humane with what we could do. love you. goodbye.

The funeral’s been bounced to Wednesday because the family decided to cremate Mike. Therefore, Matt and I came home from Michigan on Sunday. But what we found was sad. Cheddar was lethargic, weak (shaky legs), painful to the touch, meowing weakly, and unable to keep down water. With the wheezy cough that sounded like potentially water in his lungs, Matt and I headed to the Emergency Vet Clinic. Long story short, $300, about 2 hours, a catheter and a removed plug later and Cheddar was on his way home. He had a blocked urethra (mucus clump between his bladder and the outside world) and therefore his bladder was filling up with water and nothing was coming out. Apparently his bladder was solidifying causing the painful touch, vomiting of water, dehydration, and general weakness. So today Cheddar is napping on the bathroom floor, still with a chancy stomach but at least he’s showing increasing signs of perkiness. He’s a bit of a sight for sore eyes, but he’s moving around about every half hour or so which is a huge improvement over this morning’s life-drained mass on the bathroom mat. And he’s opening his eyes more and willfully choosing to drink water. We’ll see if he keeps down the treat that I force-fed him a few minutes ago (he hasn’t eaten in probably about 36 hours and refused even the smell of food but still remains quite weak). And if you get really close, despite his sickly mute status, you can hear his deflated purr as you pet his frail body.

I just love the sound of that purr.

There is nothing like a purry furry in your arms at 6 in the morning.

Yesterday was a long 11 hour day at work and there is still paperwork awaiting my attention. Matt and i got a phone call at 10ish last night. Matt’s Uncle Mike whom we were rearranging our schedule to go visit on Sunday had died within the hour. The paramedics were still at his Michigan house when we received the news. “I think this is going to hit Dad hard,” Matt said after laying on the bed in silence for a while. Mike had recently been diagnosed with cancer which had spread rapidly to his pancreas. But Mike was in denial and refused treatment despite the 6 month time-frame. And then he had a stroke yesterday and still refused treatment. But it doesn’t make him any less of a person, his stubbornness. And it’s going to be a hard funeral for many family members who can’t say with assurance that “He’s in a better place.” And that’s hard.

Saturday we are going to Michigan for Matt’s cousin’s wedding. We’re traveling with Ellen and Ron and Bekah and Sarah all packed into a van. Can we say family road trip? But in light of last night’s news it looks like we’ll be staying in Michigan at least until Monday for the funeral. And work had better let me off. ESPECIALLY after my 9 hour day Wednesday, 11 hour day Thursday and soon to be 9 hour day today.

I’m getting my little sister, Sarah, today so she can go to the movies with the youth tonight. I love seeing Sarah. She’s a sweetheart. Last night she called Matt with a dilemma that her boyfriend was not “of age” to go to homecoming. I love her honesty in saying that she’d love to just lie about his age. But I trust that she will do the right thing in asking the homecoming adults if her boyfriend can go due to his homeschooling status. Hopefully they will cut her some slack. If not, Matt and I offered to take the two of them out to dinner (of course Matt and I sitting in a booth over or whatever). I just love that girl and her boyfriend is quite sweet too. Their innocence is so much fun to encourage and support.

Wednesday night I was given a few shirts from a new friend. Lydia’s a house-mom of three kids (one 7th, 5th and 4th grader). It was so wonderful to hear her heart for her family. Hard times are coming for their family or at least times of hard transition. And it was really comforting to see a new friend continuing to fight for the most important thing entrusted to her – her family. I’m honored to wear the tee-shirts she has given me. It reminds me of a strong woman who gets it when it comes to loving a family.

Anyway, that’s been us for the past few days… overworked, underpaid, and trying to be a good family to others.

In more random news I had a dream last night that Renee was pregnant. And the night before I had a dream that an old high school friend of mine (the pastor’s kid) had a biracial baby outside of wedlock. I’ll attribute both dreams to extra hormones. And then I sat on Dakota’s paw last night while on the couch. She hollered initially and then dragged on her injury like the world was falling apart. There was this break in the initial pain and then this continuation of the drama as I gave her lovings. That dog is hilarious. You should come see her. (One at a time please.) =)

Not sure when I’ll get a chance to update any time in the next few days. But I’ll be back to keep you all posted on the wonderful life of the (announcer voice) “Associate Pastor Posse”. – Baby’s says ‘kick’!

Alas, the low iron returns. Had the low iron effect a while back before pregnancy, but now it’s choosing to return. So iron supplements and orange juice are added to the prenatals and for one who doesn’t like popping the pills… it’s all for the baby. I came to the realization this morning after nearly losing my prenatal vitamin that I haven’t missed a single day of prenatals in 6 months. That’s right, I know you’re jealous of these skills. Mom also informed me that with the addition of iron to my vitamin drug use (hehe) I will have another added feature that will return from trimester 1’s joys. Bummer, dude. Real bummer. But I still have some left over fibercon. As for the poison-ivy type rash on my stomach it appears to have faded to a nice scar that occasionally jumps into remission (requiring an oatmeal soak). And the baby has picked up the fine art of kicking my large intestine with brute force causing that four-year-old “I’m about to go in my pants” sensation along with the more frequent bladder assaults. So to sum it all up… baby appears to be doing quite well and getting all that it needs. Me on the other hand… I’m getting the leftovers. =) – There’s surprising joy in the leftovers sometimes.-

Thursday night Matt and I went over to the office behind our house to microwave some soup/ravioli for dinner and watch “the Family Man” (love that movie) on my laptop from the semi-comfortable choir/Sunday School chairs in Matt’s office. As I walked back to the dark house Matt, driving ahead (since he was carting all the stuff) jumped out of the car and yelled across the parking lot, “We have power”. I took off running across the parking lot toward the house. There was nothing as sweet as the sight of all our windows and blinds exposed and beaming with electricity. The smile could not be wiped from my face until sleep took it 10 minutes later. So, dear friends, at 9 something, but really at 10:30 Matt and my blackout was ended. And the light has been absolutely wonderful since.