Saying Goodbye to Jeté

Many of you already know that Jeté is gone. About 3 or so weeks now. Losing her was a big part of why I went on blogging hiatus. I felt like I couldn't really express my feelings about her condition without getting a slew of advice that I just didn't want. And I just couldn't talk about it. I needed to do some grieving alone first.

I knew, even though I didn't want to face that I'd lose her, that she'd let me know when it was time. I knew that. And everyone around me telling me that I couldn't let her suffer and I needed to do the right thing just wasn't helping. The truth was, I'd already promised myself that I wouldn't let her get to the point where she was miserable. And I couldn't have pushed it much longer had I so chosen. She could still eat, still walk, still purr, still lots of things. But the last week, I'd come home and she'd cry at me and look at me with those huge eyes and I knew I had to make it better.

This was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. Holding a little life is your hands is a huge responsibility and I feel it's changed me.

But there's a great organization here in Portland called Compassionate Care that comes to your home so your pet's last moments don't have to be stressed out in a car or on a steel table.

I held her little body in my arms as she passed out and then passed away and it was the most beautiful and most horrible experience.

I missed her instantly.

I miss her terribly. Oh I go on about my day and life is fine and for the most part things are happy. But her absence is still distinct. Hobbes misses her. He's so lonely, poor guy. He's been attached to my hip like he never was before, cuddles with me now, falls asleep on my hand, sleeps on my bed. Like the whole world has changed. 

How does it ever stay the same? 


For Jeté from Andrea Anthony on Vimeo.