Yesterday, we said goodbye to our little girl, Maggie. She had lost a severe amount of weight and had difficulty breathing by the time we got her to the vet Saturday morning. X-rays showed fluid in her chest cavity that was preventing her lungs from expanding fully. Bloodwork was normal though. The vet drained off the fluid, and said there was a lot of it, but then air started filling her chest. The next x-ray showed that her lungs were twice the size they were previously, but there was a tumor on one lung that was allowing her inhaled breaths to just escape into her chest cavity. Pretty soon, the air she breathed in would start suffocating her just as the fluid had.

Our options were to get her to an emergency clinic where they’d put her on oxygen and probably put a tube into her chest to try and keep her stable until we could find a specialist who could perform surgery to remove the tumor and affected lung tissue. We probably wouldn’t even be able to do that until Tuesday, and the odds of Maggie holding on for that long were slim. Or, we could let her go with as little discomfort as possible.

Around 12:45 pm on December 30th, Dale and I cried and said our goodbyes to Maggie. Dale took Olivia into the lobby while I stayed with Maggie until she was gone. Some time next week we’ll receive her ashes and we’ll find a nice place to sprinkle them outdoors.

Maggie was just about 10 years old. She’s been with us since she was six weeks old. She was our second cat but the first one who was ‘mine.’ She was named after the Pietasters song, “Maggie Mae.” She was aloof and sweet, and tiny compared to our other cats. She was a real darling, and despite being picked on by the other kitties, she’d love on them if given the chance. She liked getting scratched hard behind the ears, and she’d drink your beer if given the chance.

We miss her terribly.

Bill Dance has made my night. He’s a pro bass fisherman with his own TV show and some incredibly bad luck.