Broad brushstrokes of blue and gray flow to greet the perfect day. The meandering swipes of teal mirror how you make me feel. The foaming white swells drift apart as your kiss lingers in my heart. My fingers reach for the brush, but I tell my mind to hush. No painting needed today to capture the perfect day. Nature speaks of the time when you were only mine.
Today, I said goodbye to Nounous, my best friend and the love of my life. It was a tough decision since I wasn’t ready. But I had to do what was best for him. He battled so many diseases this year. Diabetes and Cushing’s disease weakened him, but the worst was the infection he developed in both eyes this past November. The vet feared Nous would lose an eye, but I gave him antibiotics and eye drops until he recovered. I almost lost him, so the extra months with him were a godsend.
Over the summer, Nounous began eating less and losing weight. He ate sliced turkey, then all my refrigerator options, and finally settled on takeout. But soon, stuffed cabbage and Swedish meatballs weren’t enough to maintain his weight. The vet said it was my decision. Without additional blood tests, there was no way to know why he wasn’t eating. He could have acquired a new disease, or his teeth were too rotted. He was fifteen years and eight months and reached the end of his short life.
I made the appointment for Monday afternoon to have the weekend with him. I’ve lost family members, but this time, I felt my heart breaking. Before seeing the vet, we went to the park. Nous walked a little, but seemed tired. We sat on a bench for an hour and listened to the ducks and geese. Since he developed cataracts from his diabetes, Nous can’t see, but I explained to him the sounds. I talked and sang his favorite songs; he even drank some of my Starbucks iced coffee. Too soon, it was time to go.
No one was in a hurry at the vet, giving me extra time with Nounous. Since he lost more weight and the vet believed Nous appeared uncomfortable—she couldn’t tell how much pain he was in—I gave my consent and signed the papers. I picked a small box to keep him afterward, with a place for his picture. The first shot made him sleepy, but aware I was still with him. After the second shot, the vet said he was fighting it and breathing. Nous was a fighter; he didn’t want to leave me, and I didn’t want him to leave me. Another dose and the light in the world dimmed for the last time.