Five weeks ago I blogged that the vet had told us that our ancient cat was ready to go. When I asked how long, she said "days, not weeks." Lots of readers wrote condolences and offered good advice.
In particular, Rain offered this:
That seemed right and we decided to wait and see.
Evidently, the vet had neglected to consult Frisker about whether she intended to stick around a bit longer. The cat has shown no sign of pain or willingness to give up. She limps around, demands food, and still bites if you approach her wrong. If anything, she's more mobile and more herself than a month ago. Maybe cats do have nine lives and we just don't know where they are in working their way through them.
Here she is, being decorative in her sunbeam. Her friend Jane came to visit and took the picture at the head of this post. She didn't bite Jane.
She's never liked us to see her drinking, but since she sits down to do it now, she has a hard time avoiding us.
How long this can go, we can't know. But the cat doesn't seem ready to leave this plane, so we go on together.