The lyf so short

I came home for the last ten minutes of Clint's life. He was already very weak, and I took him on my lap and caressed him. Then he tried to get down, so I sat him in his basket. It was like it was half a year ago, with his brother: While I was still petting him, he lifted his head up, moaned three times, lay back down, and life left him. So, apparently, he did feel Death coming (we and the vet had half-expected him to die before he noticed it).

And I am left to mourn him, alone. I am so sorry Jörg was not there for his last minutes; it was his cat, after all, and they spent nearly 16 years together. Now Clint's heart failed while Jörg was away on business, and I knew him a mere four years and it hurts so badly, and all I can do is cry for him.
I suppose it is good that at least I was there when it happened.

Farewell, Clint. Thank you for being the cutest, darlingest, wisest cat I have known. You will be missed.

- - -
( Grabrede )
- - -

This was the first of three weekends spent at an airport. I had to pick up my parents who came back from Sicilia today. The plane was late and I spent an hour and a half sitting around on the airport all pointless.

I also visited my grandmother in the hospital. She is quite well, just limping a bit (and terribly unhappy about it, because she's a perfectionist). She'll certainly be back home for her birthday, though, which is the most important thing for her. I drove her back to her house so she could get new clothing and check her letters, then brought her back.
I noticed I still have that automatical fixed hospital smile I trained to wear when I worked in the nursing home. Totally artificial and totally insincere. It came when I entered the clinic and went away when I was back in my car. It feels strained and dirty.

Clint is very ill. His heart doesn't work properly anymore; it beats way to fast and still can't pump the blood properly through his body; his legs are already swollen with water. His kidneys aren't the best, either, and he has conjunctivitis, but the main problem is his heart. He's gotten injections and is supposed to take pills, but he refuses to. Just now, I mixed the pulverized pill into his milk, and he actually drank that, which is surprising because this morning when we tried the same trick he just ignored the milk. No matter what you tried, he stubbornly refused the pill. Now he's taken at least part of it; let's see what happens now. I really, really hope he'll get better; but the chances are 30%, so there's not overly much hope.

*le sigh*
*tries to console herself by reading shoebox_project*