Thursday, February 18, 2021

Life is Easier Now

I would like to thank all those who have commented on Josie’s death, on my blog and in emails. It is very kind of you to to take the time and effort to write these wonderful things about my old lady, and every word written to me is valued. I will respond to each, some directly, in the cases in which I can, others by means of a reply on this blog. If you aren’t notified automatically of a response, you can check for one; it may take a while for me to get through them all, but I will.

I also want to thank Ann from Zoolatry for the image she created for Josie and me, which I have added to my side-bar. I can’t recall taking the photograph that she used in it, which makes her gift even more treasured. Ann has brightened many dark days for us, and I thank her.

At the hospital yesterday, the doctor asked a poignant question when she was preparing Josie for the final injection. She inquired if I was sure that I wanted to euthanise my girl.

Was I sure? She was right to ask the question, of course, but how can one be sure? Perhaps Josie wasn’t in the discomfort I perceived her to be. Perhaps she was, but preferred to live with it, if it meant living. I couldn’t know, so I couldn’t be sure. All I could be was sure enough, sure enough to let Josie go.

And now there are the three beasts, plus little Xanadu. I kept thinking at meal-times that I needed to check on Josie, to see if she was eating or wanted more. This morning, the Cosy Apartment was very quiet: there was no screeching old woman demanding her breakfast.

As when Cammie died, things are easier, now that Josie is gone. I have one less cat to feed, and since she ate in a different room from the others, I had to keep going there to attend her. I don’t need to set food out at night, for her irregular eating habits. I don’t have to check to see if she didn’t quite make it in to the litter-box. I don’t have to keep the water in the bowl in the far corner of the bedroom refreshed as often. I don’t have to wait until she removes herself from the bed (where she sometimes chose to eat) so I could make it in the morning. Yes, life will be a little easier without Josie.

I wish it were harder again.


  1. Your an absolute hero John..
    If there was a medal for what you'd get one..! :).

    I could 'never' do all that you do,
    the fostering is amazing, no, l
    really could'nt handle that..
    I became a single parent back in 1980,
    my daughter was five then, l was keen
    to adopt a little boy, went through
    the necessary paper work/interviews,
    in the end l just gave up, they wanted
    me to foster for year, before l could
    adopt..NO..l just could'nt do it, to
    take in a child, goodness knows for
    how long, then part with it..then some
    other child, it would break me! :(.
    So, fostering is not for me..
    But! Then, that's just me!

    I adopted a few cats in my early years,
    me and my daughter loved them, all of them,
    now l'm in my seventies, George my last
    pussy~cat went over some eight years ago,
    l'll never have another, but still, l have
    Fudge and Flossie who visit and stay a while,
    Fudge is quite young, loves to see what's on
    my dinner plate, and helps himself, though
    l keep him away if l'm having curry..! :)
    Flossie is more laid back and lazy..Bless her!x

    Good luck to you John..God bless ya! :o)

  2. We understand the easier longing for the harder, we really do.

  3. There are habits that become a part of our daily lives...but now, there is no need to continue them.
    It's a heartbreak every time you catch yourself walking into the other room, nor monitor litter boxes or water bowls.
    Things that are done for love, and it hurts.
    Without your approval, I added Angel Josie to my post today.
    Hugs and purrs.

  4. I understand. My home was uncrowded and like a display model when Admiral flew away. I would have faced taking back the clutter and mess joyfully.

  5. That must have been such a hard decision to make, but I'm sure that, in her own way, Josie was communicating to you that she was ready to move on.

  6. These decisions are always so unbearably hard, but in our hearts we know that we're being merciful and compassionate. Sometimes I think about Nicki and how quickly I made the decision, but I knew that the odds were not good (with hepatitis and pancreatitis plus his other health issues) and I knew he would not have wanted to spend his final days or weeks in a cage, hooked up to tubes and undergoing intense medical treatment. I would not have wanted that for him.

    So it is with Josie, I think. You knew her best, John, and knew there was not going to be a recovery. You made the unselfish, tough decision to let her go before her suffering increased.

    That's Love. ♥

  7. That decision is always the hardest but made out of love and empathy, and we believe that had you not done it it would only prolong her suffering. Rest easy that you did your very best for Josie.

    You have lost so many friends, it never gets any easier though.

  8. Easier perhaps, but harder too as transition from caring for her and simple miss Josie and her routine.

    Take care.

  9. there comes a time, when it's a matter of QUALITY of life, not QUANTITY of days, and no one but the pet parent truly "feels this in their heart, and knows this in their mind"

    while it seems rough right now, rest easy in your mind and heart that you did what was right by Josie; and she thanks you for it.

    I truly wish I could remember who, at the Catster site said: don't let their worst day, be your last memory.

    Shame on me for not remembering the person who quoted this, because no truer words were ever spoken


  10. Making the decision to let go of a pet is one of the hardest decisions a pet parent has to make. However, ending the suffering of a beloved animal who no longer has a good quality of life, is also one of the most unselfish decisions a pet parent can make. Our thoughts are with you, John.

  11. I understand too well what you mean. It is the hardest decision, but no-one knew Josie better than you. I honestly believe that they can subconsciously communicate with us to let us know when it is time. My thoughts are with you.

  12. Nothing easy about such a decision. It just means Josie is not suffering and that makes it easier on you that she isn't. Just like the many cats who have recently left you for the other side, you'll miss her and there will be a big hole in your life.

  13. We are so sorry that you lost Josie. Your remarks on it being easier but wishing for the harder are so poignant. It is those special cats with whom we make the complicated journeys that leave such a deep mark on our souls.

  14. Aw, sounds so much like what our mom experienced. It's remarkable the hole a little cat can leave. We are sorry.

  15. We always enjoyed hearing about Josie and will miss her updates. Having a cat that requires a bit more, maybe more than a bit more seems to not be difficult at all. It is the connection between you that allows this care to grow as the communication of both is active and effective. Doing this type of care seems as natural as breathing. When it is no longer needed it is as though you have lost breath. You did such a fine job with Josie she surely told you in many ways that she was ready. Listening is our job and thank you for having such a heart to give her the final act of love. Josie fly free dear girl. Look down and remember we simple mortals and your very special one.