Last night, all my lack of sleep and worries about our sick little kitty came to a head, and I got a good, long cry taken care of. He was so ill last night, could barely breathe and obviously in extreme discomfort. I felt so useless and was at the end of my rope. I emailed his vet (who might I add, is the nicest, best vet on the planet) and she got back to me within a half an hour. After a couple hours, we had a plan in place to bring him in this morning and flush his nose again so that he can breathe at least for the next few weeks. I was a wreck trying to figure out how I could enjoy our vacation with him being so ill. THANK GOD for Dr. Cordner.

So, as we speak, Mr. Miles the cat is at the U Vet Hospital, hopefully recuperating after his little procedure. I hope he’s a new man when I get him back this afternoon.

The husband was nothing but sweet and supportive of me during my complete emotional breakdown. We had a rough conversation about “the end” and what that means, and as much as it hurts, we know what (and when) to do (it). I love him like he’s my child, but I cannot sit back and watch him suffer as much as he has in the past 72 hours.