Well…. we talked about it yesterday. Jason and me.

We were distressed that Sneezles was distressed. We were upset that he was upset. We were suffering because he was suffering.

At 3:15 am, some of that was resolved.

Sneezles’s body finally gave out. Jason was with him till the end. He brushed, petted, watched, and probably cried a bit. And went back to bed.

I was up at one am, which is pitifully usual for me. But,, instead of staying up like I usually do, I went back to sleep until five. Saw what happened. Covered the body in a blanket, biked for half an hour and decided that I needed to prioritize…. Went back to bed and waited for Jason’s alarm. Told him.

But he already knew.

No more kitty.
3:15 am.

But at least he didn’t go alone. He wasn’t lonely. Jason was there.

Now, he’s getting ready for a day at work.

Jason is a lot stronger than most realize.

I’m not sure how I feel.
A bit relieved. A bit numb. A bit annoyed. Even a bit grateful. Digging a grave. Sanitizing the floor and removing the cat fountain and litter box will give me something to do.

Beyond that, I can finally take action. I hate being helpless. I can do something. Jason can do something.

Not doing anything is a disservice. It’s disrespectful.

Knowing Sneezles isn’t in pain any more does my heart good.

I will miss him, of course. But ultimately, he was Jason’s cat, and I don’t think I can fully understand but I can be there.

We got to keep going on.