Jim painted this portrait of Patrick just a few days ago. Now it turns out to be his memorial. For the last several days he seemed to be winding down. He was increasingly lethargic, stopped eating. Though I knew he was dying, I couldn't totally accept it. For days I watched him deteriorate. He didn't seem to be suffering, and it was my vague intent to let him die on his own. At the same time I didn't rule out a miracle until yesterday. I finally decided it was unfair to us both to let him go on. I took him to the vet and had him euthanized.
I wonder how many more times I can endure the loss of a beloved animal....how many times I can tell myself that the joy of having them is worth the pain. I'm probably not done yet. For one thing, I still have Willy. He's still reasonably young. Though I love him, he won't fill the void left by Patrick. I will have to decide if I will go through the rest of my life without the intense love I felt for Lytton and Patrick in order to avoid the pain of losing them. Probably I won't.
