It seems hard to believe that yesterday morning, this was the view from breakfast – which was a mix of all the left over things in the fridge that still needed to be eaten before we left. It seems like vacation is already years past.

Coming home, it has become clear that there will be another letting go soon, probably tomorrow. Moortje has gone significantly downhill over this past week. I don’t think he’s eating or drinking anymore. Last night, I held him close and woke up regularly to check his breathing. He’s not very responsive anymore and I think he might go today. If not, tomorrow, I will take him to the vet and have them ease him on his way to Mom, Raven, Mikha, Ninja and all the pets that have gone before.

It will be really difficult to do. I know that this is the hardest moment of being a pet parent – making this choice. I said awhile ago that when he stopped eating and stopped seeming to enjoy life, I would make the right decision. Well, the time is here. You can see that my little man’s engine is finally running out of steam. Even if he had reached 26 or 50, there never would have been a right time. I was thinking out loud this morning about the day I found him at the Special Needs Adoption. My mom and I had gone out for coffee that morning at C&P in West Seattle and returned home with an enormous black and white male cat with the terrible name of Peanut.

This photo was taken in 2012, right during the time Mom was admitted to the hospital and things were a little chaotic at home since I was spending most of my time there. If you look in right hand corner, you can see Henry’s rear end, with the rest of him under a blanket as dachshunds are prone to do.

Mom and I always used to wonder what circumstances did Moortje come from? By far, he could handle anything. Nothing seemed to stress him out, he knew how to meow at a door if he ended up outside and he was definitely the boss when it came to securing choice seats in front of fireplaces or outside in the sun. Even now, he sleeps closest to my heart – leaving the further away distances for the other pets.

He passed tonight, around 9PM, in my arms. With one small meow and a stretching of his legs, he was off. He is missed already. Our family seems smaller now. He was surrounded by love, and really I can’t ask for anything more than that. Safe journeys, bold little man.