We had a good run, she and I. I know her life turned out much better than it might have for having adopted me, and my life was much better as well.
Iris contacted a local vet, and found we could get an emergency exam for $90, and given the circumstances, if euthanasia looked to be the best option, the doctor would do it for free. Ozma was emaciated, her temperature was about 10 degrees F hypothermic, she was severely anemic and dehydrated. The vet's prognosis was that even if money was no issue, Ozma's chances were extremely poor. She said that euthanasia truly was the best option. I could tell Friday that she was going fast; I'm not inclined to discuss the reasons because I'm still kind of traumatized by it all. I really didn't expect her to make it until this morning.
In short, I had already come to a certain degree of acceptance that her time had come.
The end was very peaceful. I held her in my arms, and scratched her ears and neck; she looked up once as the fluid entered the catheter, but she didn't protest. She lifted her head one last time so I could scratch her chin and jaw. Then she relaxed and it was over.
She had spent nearly 30 continuous hours in my lap, arms, and bed. Unless I set her down- in which case, she would start crying piteously- she didn't express discomfort or pain. But she was scared and uncomfortable, and both of us were suffering. That's over now, at least for her. Knowing that helps me face my own sorrow.
Below are three pictures I took last night, expecting not to see her today. She looks very relaxed, and that posture of hugging my left arm has been her mode since she discovered what human laps were intended for.
Goodnight, Ozma. You were a blessing I never expected, and will never forget.
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