Shady crossed the bridge

My 18 year old cat had a stroke this past Saturday night. He had already been declining over the past couple of months but after the stroke he just…looked unhappy. He had lost the little zest for life he had left. So I made the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make and set up an appointment for in home euthanasia for Monday night. I wasn’t ready. But I knew he was struggling when he no longer wanted his treats and he let me clip his nails (which previously could only be done if he was sedated). Those were my clues. The vet showed up and suddenly my cat had a little spunk left in him as he hissed and tried to scratch her (he’s always been a bit of an antisocial jerk to everyone but me). I got to hold him as he passed. And I am crushed. So many things I wanted to say but couldn’t bring myself to say. So many what ifs. So much guilt about going out for the day or wondering if I had just done one thing differently would he still be here? He was my baby. My ride or die. My companion ever since I moved out on my own. 18 years of being glued to my side. And now he’s gone. And my heart is broken and I don’t think it can be fixed. I miss him so much.