Everyone told me that I would know when it was time. Over the past few weeks, Poppy was finding it increasingly difficult to sit down. She would stand on the post outside our house for hours, not wanting to move or come in. She was still eating, but she was losing weight. All the time, the tumour was getting bigger and bigger.
Then on Thursday night I looked into her beautiful green eyes and I just knew.
My mum drove us to the vet’s. Poppy poked one of her paws through the carrier and rested it on my hand the whole way there. I couldn’t hold back the tears.
At the vet’s I started to panic. What if I wasn’t doing the right thing? What if it was too soon? ‘If she is struggling to sit down, she is in pain,’ the vet said simply. ‘There is nothing else you can do.’
It was over within seconds. I gave her a kiss on the top of her little head, stroked her gently and said goodbye for the last time.
Now we’re coming to terms with the loss.
No 1 Son is very angry with me, but I’ve tried to explain that when you love an animal, the kindest thing you can do for them is set them free, and let them die with dignity.
She was 17, and she had a really good life. The other cat and the dog will miss her, as will we all. I know it’s silly to be so upset, she was just a cat. But she was our little cat, and we loved her. We will always love her.