First, We Start At The End

This morning I had the distinct displeasure of taking my 14yr cat, Samantha, to the vet for a “quality of life” discussion. At 10:22am PT, she breathed her last breath; she reached the finish line of a lifelong marathon. She was such a good, sweet cat.

Sam had a pretty healthy life for 13 years. The only concern we ever had for her was her allergy to fish (seriously, that’s a crap allergy for a cat to have, given its ubiquitous use in cat food, etc). Then about a year ago, she had a one-off seizure. She didn’t lose any control of her bodily functions, and at the time we were pretty concerned about it. She never had another one, but I should have realized then that we were starting a countdown clock for her.