I just buried Buns' body

: 'My Immortal' by Evanescence
: Sad

and it was hard; among other things I had to take his body out of the cadavre bag because the soil was so clay I couldn't have made a big enough hole otherwise...but it's a beautiful spot, and it just served to remind me that what I buried wasn't Buns. Still, I'm a little shaky...I'm actually eating (and I suppose that's surprising to some that I could, but...); it's helping to ground me.

Yesterday I came home, took Buns into the other room and shut out everyone else, and just lay for an hour petting him. When we took Buns in yesterday to the vet, he started bleeding when I picked him up to put him into the bag I was using as a carrier. That did clot, but then when the vet gave him the injection, he started pouring blood and the vet tech had trouble stopping it. He was fine when we held him, but he growled at the vet and vet tech--which is a bit of fire from his old self. He used to cling to the kitty scale and growl at them and they'd have to do all their exams and shots with the cat attached to a scale. But when he went, he went easy. He just eased down to the table. I guess what I wasn't prepared for was that his eyes stayed open. My friends who have worked in healthcare tell me that's normally the case with any creature.

We think he may have had cancer; that could account for the skin ulcers, the wasting, and the most recent issue, the bleeding. It could even have affected his heart, spleen, and brain. Until the bleeding started, I really couldn't put him down. His health issues were a problem, but not immediately life-threatening. But I couldn't ignore the bleeding; I couldn't let him bleed to death at home without me around.

My friends were very comforting. I want to thank you all for your understanding. And a special thank you to 'You Know Who I Am' for going with me; Buns was as much your cat as mine, and I think it comforted him to be with you. And thanks for taking care of me afterwards.

The animals don't really seem to realise that he's gone; he was always a little apart from the others. And it's strange...I held him as he died, I watched them put him in a bag (they asked about each, but I felt I needed it to be as real for me as possible so that I could mourn) but until I woke up and didn't have to clean up after him (he'd been incontinent for some time) it didn't really hit me. And, then, of course, burying him, and seeing his body looking much like the cats we dissected in high school biology. That was hard, and I had to fight a little not to throw up at the smell of death. And I'm sorry if I'm being too graphic but I need to record it because my tendency is to dissociate from anything unpleasant or scary and I need to feel this completely...it's only fair to me, and he deserves my grief as well.

I came to realise yesterday that this is a step away from my tendency to delude myself. Every now and then I have to do that to move on with my life. I have an extraordinary ability to convince myself that my quality of life or that of the animals is better than it is. I used to refer to an apartment that had spaces between the walls and the roof and that was in a constant flux of renovation (not to mention under siege by an incontinent beagle) as 'charming'. It was probably past time to put Buns down, but until this weekend, until the bleeding, I really couldn't do it. I do think in doing so I spared him a lot more pain and progression of the disease.

I spent most of last night cuddling with Spock and Darius and Cerys. They all slept with me, and they were a comforting presence. I know that they'll eventually go down the same road. But for now, they are with me, and I want to make the most of our time together.