Less than an hour ago, we said goodbye to our cat, Sarah. This is the second time we’ve decided to put down an old cat (she was 19) who was deteriorating before our eyes, unable to hold her bladder and not even purring anymore. I had a hard time with the decision — I hate these adult responsibilities of having to deal with life and death. My wife and I thoroughly talked it through and we brought her in to the vet together. The vet, Dr. Ullman, was truly amazing. Very compassionate and great in that she went through all the scenarios between putting our cat down or letting her go. The reality was that Sarah was so miserable and she was not going to get better.

Thankfully, we had told our kids that this was likely to happen and they had said their goodbyes. The fact is that, while the kids liked her, the cat loathed being last in line for attention behind the boys. After our second child arrived, out of revenge, Sarah peed — many times - through our bedroom carpet all the way through to the wood baseboard before we figured out exactly what she was doing.

Still, I’m writing this blog to try to sort through the emotions of letting go of a cat who had been with us since my wife and I were in the second year of couplehood. I will miss her strange meow (like a pouting infant) and chubby tummy. It was time to release her. Rest in peace, Sarah.

Our cat, the first “baby” my wife and I took care of together, reached a point of sickliness (over several years, she had dropped below three pounds and could no longer stand up) that we decided to help her die. I have mixed emotions because my connection to her had waned with the addition of each of our three children as well as two other animals (a cat and dog), but I still had all these good memories flow through my head about the 16 years of her time with us — how she slept on our pillows when she was really young, how she purred like a sawmill, how her black and white fluffiness served as our kids’ first developmental toy. As I pet her during the euthanizing procedure, I hated being part of the decision about whether an animal should live or die. Still, she had wasted away and I do believe, as did the incredibly compassionate vet, that it was time to let her go.

We did tell our kids that Bronte had died, doing so as gently and age-appropriately as possible with each child. They have been closer with our dog than with our elusive, aging cat. However, it was an opportunity for them to learn about death at a more subtle level so, when it happens to a human loved one, they might be a tad more prepared for it.