Jenny with the Axe

Back in June 1994 I finally dumped the cheating and somewhat abusive guy I'd been dating. He'd been allergic to cats, and the first thing I did was to get a cat. Her name was Pixel. She was only five weeks old; her mother was a purebred Persian, but the father wasn't, so the owners had unceremoniously dumped the kittens. I got her from a breeder who also took in unwanted cats. She was so small she fit into the palm of my hand.

That was fourteen and a half years ago. She grew into a stubborn and plump cat, ruling the other two cats with an iron paw and me with a velvet one.

At the end of last year we noticed that she'd lost quite a lot of weight. From being a very plump cat she went to being so thin that we felt her ribs. I took her in for a check-up and from the blood tests they found that she was having kidney problems - they were basically shutting down. For good.

I got some diet food, and that helped a little. She got back some of her weight. But over the past two weeks or so she's been losing it again, and now her fur is starting to look dull and rough. She's still very affectionate towards me and Calle, wanting to be petted, but she gets tired very quickly and goes to lie down in some warm place.

I can't delay it any longer. I would want to keep her with me for the rest of my life, but I can't let her suffer for my selfish desire for her companionship. Today we're taking her on the last trip to the vet.