I ordered Pepper’s urn this morning. Looks like we’ll be putting him down by Thursday or Friday… he’s now completely blind, and his appetite has dwindled away to nothing. Poor baby.
If I don’t think about it, I’m not sad. But given that I’ve spent the last few years worrying over the little guy every single day, not thinking about it is just fucking impossible.
Mom called and insisted that I didn’t need to be in the room when they do it, that it’ll make it harder on me. I told her it isn’t supposed to be easy.
I fucking hate surrender. Even to the inevitable.