No Business Naming Things

We brought Abby to the vet today fearing that she may not make the trip home. She had an infection a few weeks back and since then she’s deteriorated. She’s stumbling more than she used to, she’s not as gregarious, and most telling of all: she’s started peeing well outside of her box. The vet gave her a thorough lookover and figures she’s basically healthy with the exception of her arthritis. It’s getting progressively worse, which is why she’s been peeing on the floor - it’s simply too difficult for her to get into the boxes. Armed with this information she’s going on a new pain medication regimen involving morphine, increased MediCam dosage, and a new anti-inflamatory. We also have a new catbox for her upstairs (so she doesn’t have to take the trek down the steps). In addition to this she’ll be be getting a cartilage builder supplement. She now takes more medication than I do. But at least she’s coming home and should be okay for awhile longer. I am starting to feel guilty for prolonging her pain but the vet insists that she’s still okay otherwise. If we can manage the pain we’ll have managed all of her problems. I want to believe he’s right and I will entrust that he is but I can’t help but feel like a selfish asshole for keeping her around. Her and I have bonded to an absurd degree and the idea of losing her keeps me crying like a baby. I know it’ll be sooner rather than later… but it wont be today.