Look

I spent part of last night and a good part of this morning laid out on the kitchen floor next to my old dying cat, whispering in his deaf old ears, "let go, let go, it's okay to let go, old man, we had a good run of it, didn't we, it's okay to go now.". He'll lift his head a bit and stagger to his feet and wander blindly in a circle, and stretch out on the floor again. He can't see or hear me anymore, but if I touch his head he turns it toward me and quietly says, "meow."

I think it's time, and I'm so scared to do it and I hope the vet has a needle for me, too.