Thank you to everyone for your very kind comments.  About 24 hours from now, the home hospice vet will come to escort sweet Harriet to the Rainbow Bridge. My hope is that she’ll somehow be reunited with her black kitty sister, Claire, who we lost to heart disease several year ago at 18, and her Yorkie brother, Auggie, who had defeated cancer twice but who we lost to heart failure three years ago yesterday at 16.  We are trying to hang on to the joy that has been our extremely long-lived furry family members, but however long they stay it is never long enough. Here is Harriet licking her catnip fishy, outside in her carriage, just a few minutes ago.

We let her go.

The hospice vet came yesterday afternoon.  We spent the morning with Harriet on our laps. We fed her tuna, and held her catnip fishy while she licked it. We sat with both of her terrier mix dog sisters laying close to her and staring at us - I think they both knew. Harriet’s belly was slightly more swollen, and although she seemed a little uncomfortable, she was not in distress.  She took one breath mid-morning that sounded raggedy, and scared us. Then she was fine when she shifted position. I think the abdominal fluid was pressing on her diaphragm in a certain position.  It made me think, “we don’t want THAT for her…and so maybe this really is the right time.” 

We set up outside midday, when the morning chill finally burned off. We had a little over an hour with her with sun barely peeking through the clouds.  We took turns holding her.  My wife, E, walked Harriet around showing her the trees and flowers and birds for the last time.  I held Harriet up to my face and breathed in her smell so I could try to remember it later - we always joked that Harriet was the best-smelling of our furry children.

When the vet arrived, Harriet was sleeping on my lap. We talked with the doctor a little bit about Harriet’s last couple of months, sharing stories and concerns and her journey in retrospect.  The doctor was assuring, calm, and explained everything we could expect during the process. We had set it up so my wife and I could sit close together, with Harriet on my lap and my wife just to the side in front of her. Right as the vet started the process, a hummingbird flew up behind her very close to us, then drank from the flower basket hanging from the tree above us. After initial sedation, the doctor stepped away to give us a little time with Harriet alone. 

When the doctor came back, she gently moved Harriet’s head into my hand, put a blanket over her body, and gave the other injection while E and I held our sweet kitty. It only took a few minutes, then she was gone.

We’d arranged in advance to bring each of our dogs outside to see Harriet before her body was taken away. Our chihuahua terrier mix, V, sniffed Harriet from head to tail and back again, after E brought her up to her.  Abbie, our terrier mix who was most strongly bonded with Harriet, ran to me immediately and jumped her front paws up to my lap and sniffed and licked at Harriet for a moment, then she jumped away. E took the dogs back in the house - and when E came back out, both dogs immediately started a chorus of howling (something they rarely ever do). The vet gave us this time alone, and several minutes after, until we said we were ready. Then she gently wrapped Harriet’s body up like a baby in a blanket, and took her away. 

We were glad we were able to have a vet come to our home. The process was much more peaceful and tremendously less chaotic-seeming than when our 18 year old dog and 16 year old cat were escorted to the rainbow bridge at a vet’s office. 

We know we made the best decisions we could for her, ever since we noticed a little growth on her paw back in February. Our decision to have that leg amputated was palliative, and gave her the summer. My wife especially devoted herself to taking care of Harriet’s every need. We both really appreciate all of the support, and the many kind comments, from folks on this site. You all have helped us enormously and we are so appreciative.

We are grateful Harriet entrusted her life into our hands for over two decades.