Originally sharted on Facebook:
This evening Rach & I took our feline daughter to the emergency vet. Our cat Ashley had been acting off the last few days. Her stomach was distended, she had some difficulty walking and no longer was able to jump up on my desk. She no longer was getting up to greet me in my middle of the night trips to the bathroom.
Ashly was 14. That's 86 in human years. She was diagnosed with cancer. As a cancer survivor myself, I couldn't see me potentially putting Ash through such a discomforting and painful experience when she'd have no understanding of why it was happening.
I'll miss the comfort she gave me during some really low times in my life, and her efforts to nurse me and mother me when I was suffering from congestive heart failure earlier this year.
She'd only play with a toy once she figured out how it worked, would ask for food NOW so she would have it for later, actually touched my glasses inside and out to understand how they worked and woke me up for snoring too loudly.
I've lost many pets in my 53 years, but only one feline daughter.
Ashly, you will be greatly missed.