Samantha also gave me the first real feeling of being a family with Mr. Palindrome. I'd been thinking a lot about what it meant to be a baby family on our own and figuring out when it felt real. The first time was when we snuggled all together on a weekend morning in bed. Samantha perched herself on Mr. Palindrome's chest, purring as the sun peeked through the partially drawn shade. I burrowed under Mr. Palindrome's arm our feet intertwined. Then he called us "his girls."
Tomorrow morning, we'll be taking our girl to the vet. We'll be ending her difficult decline into renal kidney failure. In many ways I'm relieved to not have to hear her lips smacking, wet with mucous; to not have to watch as she stumbles off balance; and to not have to get up in the middle of the night to check on her just because I got a bad feeling. Yet I'm also heartbroken to have to make the choice and to become a two person family again.
My dear squishy face, your momma and daddy love you!
Thank you to our lovely blog and twitter friends who have been so kind this week. Your hearts for animals and your sympathy are much appreciated. I hope to join you again as a mom to a fur baby when the sting of our first family pet loss has lessened a bit. Much love to you all.
PS - Last night, Sam slept on my chest the entire night and put her paw on my heart. Thank goodness for those little signs of peace and love.