And it's made it all feel real.
Old Madame Fluffyknickers is somewhere over 20 and although she still eats, drinks and purrs a normal amount - and torments the cat safe house plants - she's changed.
She's stopped grooming, sleeps far more and has changed from loving or at least tolerating grooming to threatening to murder me and I can't keep on top of the matting that's starting to form on one side. She's also begun to forget what the litter trays are for. But on the other hand, she still snuggles up every night without a care in the world. The Idiot Cat, however, has started being particularly gentle/affectionate towards her rather than being a total git with zero sense of personal space and is even stepping back from the food bowls until she's finished. She is, obviously, still telling him to get lost, but he looks like he's deliberately holding back.
So I called the vet today. Instead of their general Geriatric Wellbeing appointment, the lovely woman on the phone has booked her in with the practice owner.
It could be that I just need to chuck a load of money at her and she'll come home with no teeth and a buzz cut to continue molesting spider plants for another five years. But I don't really think that it is and I have no intention of dragging things out for my benefit at her expense.
The earliest appointment they could offer (but she did say if they had a cancellation, she'd call me) is just a few minutes too early for DP to come along, but he'll be able to meet me.
I don't want her to go. But if she needs it, she's going to have to. And I'll be there.
This bit is hard.