Last week, we put our dear cat, Algie, to sleep. Every day since has been long and empty. Yesterday I brought his ashes home. And the house still feels wrong.

Our boy had been suffering from inflammatory bowel disease for the last year and a half. More recently, he developed diabetes. Last month he had another flare up. This time it didn’t go away. Every treatment we tried only made things worse.

Al was in pain most of the time. Going from sitting to laying was a project. He didn’t jump onto his roosts anymore. He wouldn’t walk upstairs. And although he ate and drank as normal, Algie lost two pounds.

He spent hours lying under our dinner table after every meal – in a spot just out of reach.

Every day, it became a bit clearer. Algie wasn’t going to get better. The only question was how long we were going to make him wait. How much longer we could bear to be selfish, to watch him like this and keep him here anyway.

Putting him down broke our hearts. Algie has been our boy for 14 years. He’s been with us every single day of our entire marriage. And although we never actively thought of him that way, he held the role of beloved ‘child’ through all the years we tried to have a family, and couldn’t.

I’m not telling this story because Al is somehow different than any other pet. I’m telling it because he’s the same. I can’t even begin to imagine how many families have been cared for over the years by the Animal Hospital of Maple Valley.

But I know they treated each and every one with devotion. Because they did it for Al. And we will be forever grateful to them for seeing him through his long and difficult journey.

To Dr. Mooers, Dr. Dietch, Dr. Dass, Sabrina, Harriet, Veronica, Chris, Georgia, Katie, and Priscilla: Thank you. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for all your kindness, care and gentleness throughout the years, and especially on our boy’s last day.

This morning I saw the light hit the kitchen floor, and his paw prints are still there.