missizzy

Two weeks ago my mother took Clarissa to the vet again, where they found no definite explanation for her lack of coordination getting worse or her being half the weight she ought to be, but told my mother she'd probably be dead by summer. To get definite answers on what was wrong with her would mean suffering for her and thousands of dollars for us, and likely wouldn't make much practical difference. But my mother instead found a mobile vet and had them come to our house to give a second opinion. She really impressed my mother with her diligence, and came up with a more definite theory: she thinks it most likely she's had a brain tumor since the summer, and it's now metastasized to her gut. Confirming it would still mean the money and suffering, and would almost certainly not make any practical difference. We can keep her comfortable for a few more months, but once her weight starts dropping fast, she says, it'll be kinder to just put her down.
Mom's already agreed to call her when it's time; Clarissa will at least get to die at home. She's even agreed to her being cremated.
I've been trying to tell myself Clary's had a good decade and a half. Cats do start to go around her age. But we wanted her to live so much longer.