Pet/euthanasia...long and melancholy.

First, a little background.
I live with three cats, one of which is fourteen years old. A couple of weekends ago I noticed he wasn’t eating very much. By Sunday night it was obvious he was sick. I took him to the vet on Monday morning and she told me what I knew she would. My cat, D, was in renal failure. I work in the medical field and I had recognized some months ago the first signs of renal insufficiency so it wasn’t unexpected exactly. The vet didn’t know if she could get D through this acute episode but after five days of care I got him back Now I have to feed him a low protein diet, give him three medications up to twice a day, and every other day I stick a needle under the skin of his back to give him fluids. I’ve stuck people with needles but somehow it’s a bit different with him. I don’t like it much but I can do it. And truthfully, he doesn’t seem to notice it very much. He just hates to sit still for the time it takes to run the fluid in.

So now my problem is that I don’t know where to go from here. I know that this is a terminal condition. His blood chemistries are lousy so I don’t think he’ll be around a whole lot longer, but you never know. The thing is, it is within my power to decide this and I’m just not sure.

I try being rational. It is expensive to do all this but right now in my life money is not a big problem. I don’t have endless amounts but I have enough. He seems to feel pretty well most days. He’s a bit wobbly but he eats some and drinks. He doesn’t seem to hurt any right now but sooner or later this will change and I know it. He only weighs seven pounds now. He used to weigh sixteen. I really, really don’t want him to again be as sick as he was initially. I think maybe it would be kinder to end it before he reaches that point. But when? I also definitely do not want him to be alone when his time comes but I can’t be sure of that any other way.

D was my Aunt’s cat before he came to be with me. She thought a great deal of him and he was good company while she was sick. She died in 1991. I promised I would take care of him, for her sake. He’s a difficult animal sometimes, a cranky sort. But he’s really a good guy and I’m attached to him for his sake too, not just because he’s my last link with my Aunt. He curls up and sleeps in my lap just like he slept in hers. He doesn’t do that with everybody.

So finally, my point. In less than two weeks is the ten year anniversary of the day my Aunt died. I think it might be fitting to send D to her then. Just trying to type that has me in tears. I keep telling myself that it’s the right thing to do for him but I feel like crap. And there’s this little voice in the back of my mind that keeps referring to it as an execution and I feel so lousy. How can I be sure it’s the right thing to do?

I guess I’m just looking for anyone who has dealt with a chronic, terminal illness like this in a pet. What did you do? This would be so much easier if he was obviously suffering or had some hideous injury. I could decide then without much hesitation. This… I just don’t know.


You can read my story about having to put my cat Sam down last year here

I can tell you that watching him go through a horrible struggle was almost more than I could bear. But I have to tell you that prolonging the suffering can only wrench your heart even worse.

You have to look at the logical situation and not at the things that tug at your heart strings. Had I left it up to my heart, my poor cat would have suffered, and dearly, until I was ready to let him go.

Find out what your heart thinks, not your logical, waiting till your aunt’s anniversary of her death. Look to see if this really is how your pet can live a decent life.

If your cat needs extra care, no longer lives a kitty life then maybe it’s time to let the vet help your baby along. I will tell you it was the hardest damn decision I have ever made in my life as my Sammy was my first baby and I loved him so damn much. I just couldn’t stand it knowing I would have to give him fluids, pray he would take in foods and pray that if he had to go I wanted him to die at home.

Only you can answer that question though, when is the right time for your pet, not for you or your memories? It could be tomorrow, it could be a week from now but I ask you not to prolong the life of your kitty so he can die the same date as your aunt for the heart will feel bad later.?

< God my heart is heavy >

I think I’ve not been too clear, sorry. He doesn’t seem to be suffering any right now, just uncomfortable sometimes. I’ve just finished giving his fluid and he doesn’t like the way it feels until its absorbed. He could go on like this for some weeks probably. He’s only a bit anemic as yet and the vet suggested additional medication for that which could prolong things for an additional time. What I’m talking about is cutting all that short. Trading off maybe two or three months for me with what’s right for him. I don’t ever want to wake up and hear him crying again because he hurts. But what I worry is that I might be cheating him some way out of some of his life by ending it sooner.

This is probably not any less confusing but I think it’s the best I can do. I can’t see the screen too well at the moment.

Dwyr, I’ve had to make that decision, too. I can’t tell you what you should do now, only what I would do if I were in your shoes.

I would decide based on what’s best for your cat. If he’s sinking now, and his quality of life isn’t there any more, or he’s in constant pain, I’d take him to the vet now. Waiting for the 10th anniversary won’t matter to him if just walking into the next room hurts him now.

If he’s still having a good life, or at least a decent one, I would hold off and let him enjoy his life as long as he can. You say that the cost of his treatment isn’t a burden on you, so this can give you a chance to enjoy him and cherish him now for a few more weeks, or maybe months.

The fact that the anniversary of your aunt’s death is so close wouldn’t be too much of a factor to me. I wouldn’t want to prolong his pain or cut short his last few days just to do this on a particular day. (Sorry, I don’t mean to sound offensive or brusque here - that truly isn’t my intent)

When the time comes, I’ll warn you that it’s not going to be easy. But you can take some comfort that the time he spent with you was a good time in his life.

From what it looks like, D’s had a nice, long life, being cared for by two different people who love him very much.

My sister’s cat was always sickly, and on meds pretty well his whole life. He was always uncomfortable, but we figured we were doing a good thing for him. Until the day he died. It had gone to the point where the meds couldn’t keep everything back, and it all came rushing out in an awful, can’t be described, wish I could erase it from my mind death. Our memories of him, rather than the wonderful times we’d had, was of the last 20 minutes. Even though it’s been 12 years, my sister still blames herself for what happened.

When my dog started having seizures a couple of years ago, the vet suggested I put him on a whole regimen of drugs to keep them at bay, so I could enjoy his company for a few months more. After questioning, she told me that there really wasn’t anything we could do to cure him. And the drugs notwithstanding, the seizures would get longer and more violent until it killed him. She gave him 3 months. Remembering my sister’s cat, and knowing that Mike wasn’t going to enjoy those three months, we made the decision to send him on his way comfortably and with those who loved him. The vet let me hold him in my lap while she did the deed and was kind enough to leave the room while I bawled my eyes out for a 1/2 hour.

I guess what I’m trying to say is why not let him go to sleep comfortably, in your arms, and wake up in your aunt’s? If it’s terminal and not painful, why wait until it is? It’s not an execution, it’s a mercy.

From what I read, you love D very much, and I know it’s an awful thing to have a member of your family in that type of situation. If I may be so bold, use the next few days to play with him, hold him, and love him, then let him sleep peacefully. Then wipe your eyes and smile for him.

“Ich habe ein Kameraden,
Ein besseren findst du nicht.”


I was in your exact situation: cat with renal failure. My little Allegro also was diabetic. Her weight plummeted just as your cat’s has. I knew she couldn’t keep going much longer but I stubbornly refused to face it because our other cat, Connie (who was MY cat, I’d raised her from kittenhood and she’d lived with me longer than Mrs. Chef has) had died unexpectedly just a month before. In fact, I can remember saying “She doesn’t seem to be suffering - what’s the hurry?” more than once.

Finally one day we were on the way out the door to take Chef Jr. to a kid’s birthday party on a Sunday afternoon and discovered Allegro, who had taken to spending most of her time under the china cabinet, in the middle of the dining room floor, unable to stand and slowly dragging herself to the living room. I know she was trying to find me - we always used to snuggle on the couch together, it was one of her favorite things to do.

We took her to the ER at the animal hospital, where I held her like a baby and told her she was a good cat while a sympathetic vet gave her the shot. They left me alone with her to say goodbye for a bit and then it was over.

I was shattered. It was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. I sat in the car at the kid’s party because I couldn’t bear to hear all those happy laughing kids. And I am COMPLETELY convinced that a) it was the right thing to do, and b) I should have done right by my sweet kitty-girl and done it weeks sooner.

Don’t tell yourself it’s an execution. Executions are punishments, and in this case the punishment is leaving him alive to suffer (I know you say he isn’t suffering yet but you can’t KNOW that, and anyway, why wait until he IS?). You owe this last service to your cat. If you want to wait until the anniversary of your aunt’s death, I think that’s a nice gesture. It will help you deal with it.

What does your vet say? Does she think this can be controlled through diet and medicine?

I know exactly what you’re going through. Last January, I had to take both my cats in to the vet - turns out one had gotten into rat poison, and had to be put to sleep. There was nothing they could do for him. The other, Teddy, was diagnosed with renal failure. Not being able to face losing both cats over one weekend, I opted to see what we could do with a diet & drug program. We had a pretty hairy 3 weeks - he had lost a lot of weight, and wasn’t eating well. He spent 3 days in the vet’s office, getting IV fluids and mediations.

Six months later, he’s healthy as a horse. He gets medication twice a day (which is a hassle, but a minor one. The toughest part is finding him!) and eats only Hill’s Diet K/D food, which he hates. He’s after the dog food, cookies left on the table, anything he can find basically all the time. But he’s his old self again - thinks he’s the king of the house. Fights with the dog. Gets pissy when I wake him from his nap to take his medicine.

Last time I took him to the vet, he had gained a good amount of weight back (still not back to his ‘old’ weight, but definitely in the healthy weight range), and his blood tests were all in the normal range. Vet says that he’s seen cats last 2-3 years after renal failure.

I don’t know what state your cat is in, but in at least some cases, renal failure can be managed. There’s lots of info on the web about it - do a Google or Yahoo search. There’s message boards and sympathetic people all over. Good luck!

I think vets can’t always tell you the right thing to do here. They’re in a delicate position, They have the capability to extend life, and they know many of their clients want exactly that. It’s what their clients need–more time with their pet. Other clients probably don’t need that. But the client feel like an ass throwing in the towel as if the pet isn’t worth it.

Only you can decide what is right for you.

I did this both ways (and have written it here before). I watched one cat, Simon, go the slow way from renal failure. I had the other one, Emily, euthanised very soon after diagnosis. It was very hard. I could afford the treatment, and frankly Emily didn’t seem that miserable. But she wasn’t liking her low-protein food, and she didn’t like the needles for the fluids, and she didn’t like being cooped up when we left the house (she was starting to have accidents). It was a different kind of quality-of-life issue at work in my thinking. Not that she was suffering, but her life was getting worse. So I asked to have her put to sleep.

Not only was I distraught over the decision, but I also felt like I had to put a spin on it so the vet wouldn’t think I loved my cat less than the other clients who pull out all stops to treat this condition. But you know, my vet said it was a brave decision on my part, and she understood. going for a tissue here remembering all this

Maybe you need to keep treating your kitty, for you and for D. For a little while, or for a long while, to see if he bounces back, to say goodbye, to honor your commitment to take care of him. That’s fine. But if you need to let go sooner, that’s okay too. Part of dying with dignity is going out while you’re still the cat that was so beloved by your owners. You’re not cheap or a quitter, dwyr, if that’s your decision.


Julie Dog got sick very suddenly. We’re still not sure what exactly happened to her – my theory is she was bitten by a snake. Whatever it was, it apparently started out on her neck, where we didn’t notice it at first, that being a region of thick skin and fur.

One morning we found her with one side of her face swollen. Mom took her to the vet, she got a shot (don’t know of what). The swelling went down. It even seemed to help her arthritis.

But then it went downhill from there. A couple days later I came home from school to find she wasn’t keeping anything in between vomiting and incontinence. But by this point she couldn’t even lift her head to drink water. I could see she was scared.

I don’t know if things would have been different if we had known earlier something was wrong, or if we could have afforded better treatment. At this point, there was only one thing to do. I told my Mom we had to put her to sleep.

Mom wouldn’t let me go. I had to stay home to look after my siblings. Just as well. I was bawling so hard I could barely breathe.

It took me five years to get over the guilt I felt. Not over having her put to sleep, but for not having noticed something was wrong before it was too late. For having let her suffer as long as she did.

Sometimes I wonder why we have these animals that we know we are going to get so attached to only to lose them. I was an only child for nine years, and a shy military brat as well. We brought Julie home from the shelter when I was five and at many times she was the only friend I had. In fact I would talk about her in kindergarten and the teacher thought I was talking about a sister. Which of course I was.

Sometimes I wonder…and yet I have Toby Dog now.


Two years go, ** Pump Action Gerbil ** and I had to put down (I hate that term) 3 dogs in 5 months, so yeah, I’ve got some experience with this.

First of all, remember this: Your cat does not understand the concept of death, and has no clue, and will never have a clue that he is dying (or dead, for that matter). He is, like almost all animals, living entirely in the present moment, so that is what you need to address.

In my own case, I worry sometimes that I let Sophie go on too long, and I said goodbye to Rufus too soon. Sophie had some kind of cancer, we never knew what kind, but she was down to around 14 pounds from a high of 28, and I was giving her fluids and drugs just like you are. I knew the day was coming, but I just couldn’t face it. Sophie had been with me for almost 17 years, and I didnt’ think I could stand it. But in the end, when she began to bloat up from internal bleeding, I hysterically called my vet who came to my home and ushered her out gently, as I held her in my arms.

I’m starting to cry writing this so I can’t go on much longer.

Just keep this in mind: whoa re you keeping him alive for, him or you? In order for it to be him, he has to be getting pleasure from his life, not just enduring it.

Death is not a tragedy for him, it is for you. Make sure that you won’t have guilt to go with it when it’s over.

Gotta go.


I want to thank everyone who replied and also apologize for dredging up bad memories. The animals you all have mentioned were lucky to have such owners.

Very sorry about Sam. I appreciate your insight.

My choice of that date was a possibly feeble attempt to assign some meaning to all this. Otherwise I’m not sure I can go through with it.

I’m sorry you’ve got that last memory. That’s just what I want to avoid for me and him. He was so sick and cried so much at first, maybe I should have done it then but I wasn’t ready.

Chef Troy
That’s it exactly. I don’t want him to hurt again. And yeah, the date is more for me because I know it’s going to be hard.

I know some cases can be managed; I work with a lady who did just that with her cat for 2 or 3 years. But D has hardly any function left at all. I have talked with the vet and she’s not optimistic about the length of time he’s got. When I first took him in his creatinine (measure of kidney function) was 15. Normal upper limit is about 1.8 or so. The vet got it down to about 7, which she said he could live with for a while. Repeat tests five days later showed it was back up to 10. He really hasn’t got a normal value on anything. I’m glad yours is doing well though.

I hadn’t realized that I am worried about what the vet will think when I approach her with this decision. I can state with reasonable certainty that D doesn’t have the same quality of life now he did before. He hates the pills and liquid he has to take and I don’t like forcing them down him.

I wonder too why we live with these animals. But I wouldn’t trade the company and loyalty for anything. They’ve been the truest friends I’ve ever had.

Three in so short a time would be horrible. I think in part its my guilt over not doing more for him that has me questioning this so much. I do feel better having had this past couple of weeks with him but he is not the same as he used to be, not as happy I know.

I’m sorry I made so many people cry but I really do appreciate your time and viewpoints. Thanks very much.

I think I should talk some more to my vet about what I’m wanting to do. She mentioned doing another set of labs soon to see how things are progressing. If they’re getting even worse then I think it’s the right thing to do. I won’t be totally alone. I still have my two other kitties, although one of them is fifteen and… I don’t even want to think about that. I’ve been crying copiously while reading this thread and my little orange cat, just two years old, hopped up on the desk to rub his face against mine. I’ve still got friends.

Just this week we had to help end Prissy’s suffering. She is the stray cat my daughter found at the elementary school where my wife teaches. I will never forget the call I got that morning at work. They had put the kitten who became Miss Priss into a file drawer, and kitten food and litter had appeared from somewhere. Anyway, the call went something like, "We found this tiny little kitten, and you can come and either take it to the vet for shots and stuff … [pause] or . you . can . take . it . to . the . shelter . <unspoken: where you KNOW what will happen.>

So itty bitty kitty Prissy became “my” cat - PlanWife already had Dottie, and PlanDaughter had Taffy. We guess she was hungry before we found her, because she made up for it the rest of her 8+ years. She soon became the fat-cat, wieghing around 13 -14 lbs. on a short frame. Our little pot-bellied kitty.

Although she was the sweetest kitty around the house, going to the vet was very traumatic - she got wild and violent. So we had to tranquilize her to mellow her out for every vet visit. After their last annual check-up, she stopped eating. But after a week, we knew something was wrong, so we took her back. Kidney infection. Vet prescribed antibiotics. Another week, and still not eating. Getting skinny. Getting weak. Back to the vet. Renal failure. Options: keep her at the vet for 3-4 days on an I-V to flush out the system. Take her home and do the fluids under the skin. Vet wasn’t optomistic about either course, and making her stay at the place she feared and hated so much, just wasn’t an option, and the vet agreed.

So we took her home and made her as comfortable as possible. Held and petted her, until she didn’t want to be held anymore. Then we just petted her, but I don’t think she knew we were there, just a blank stare. Monday night we decided it was time, and PlanDaughter (now in college) and I took her to the vet Tuesday. They injected her with a sedative, and we petted her and told her she was a good kitty. ************ this is the first time I have cried for her, for me, sobs *********** and she fell asleep.

Wednesday, we got a single red rose from the vet’s office.

I didn’t read all of the posts here, because I was getting too sad, but I wanted to share my very humble opinion.

We had to put our Chelsea (a dog) to sleep a few weeks ago. She had been diagnosed a week earlier with a kidney disease. The vet said that she could go on for months with proper treatment or she could get worse despite our best efforts. So she came home and my mom gave her the medicine and the special dog food. Within the week, Chelsea stopped eating. A few days after that, she stopped drinking her water. And she was having trouble walking.

My mom called the vet, who agreed with us that Chelsea was trying to tell us (by not taking care of her own basic needs–food and water) that she was ready to die. We had a choice: let her die naturally, which may have taken several days, or have her euthanized and spare her the pain and suffering and give her the chance to be with her family when she went. We chose to take her to the vet and be with her in her last moments. It was extremely difficult. We cried and cried over it. But it was the right thing, and we were very comforted because we knew she was in our arms and she knew in those last moments that she was loved deeply by her people.

I cannot and will not tell you what to do. Our dog was able to “tell” us that she was ready to go. I don’t know if cats have that same instinct (or whatever it is). Just trust your cat, trust your vet, and trust your heart. You obviously love your cat very much, and your heart will lead you in the right direction.

One of my cats has been losing weight in the past few months. He was diagnosed with a respitory infection and it was treated. Be that as it may, he was still as thin as a rake.

We took him back and just found out today that he has diabetes.

It’s very strange- he’s on medicine now and seems to be quite fine, but my parents and I have had several conversations about what point we should consider putting him down. Murph is a great cat, and we’re going to wait and see what the medicine does. All the same, it’s a bit unsettling.

dwyr, I sympathize greatly, as I’m going through the same thing right now with my 16 year old cat, Mojo. Last week, he was suffering from renal failure, and I thought this was it. Now, he’s bounced back a bit, and is shaky, but alert. We’ve gone through treatment, and it cost some, but he seems comfortable. I’ve known him every day of his life, so I can gauge his comfort level pretty accurately. If he slides toward suffering, I will end it before it gets too bad.

The “too bad” may be the mystery here. I’ve seen many animals head on yond, in the safe confines of the human world, and the final body throes are often prolonged and make one realize that it is suffering. In the natural scheme of things, an animal would not survive long enough to suffer. I hope that doesn’t sound too callous, but perhaps it is an indication of where death lies in the normal scope of life.

I love my cat dearly, and will do everything possible for him to lead a good life, but when he starts to turn downward, I’ll look into his eyes and make that decision. I can’t tell you how to make that decision with your own feline friend; for me, it’s 16 years of love and appreciation, and I’ll be there for his last breath. I hope I can tell when he’s hurting too much. That decision is ever-hovering now.

I wish you all the heart-strength you can muster now, dwyr. The best you can do with love and concern for another is really the best you can possibly do. You’ll know when the suffering is too much. And there’s no shame in the hearfelt grief in caring for another in order to have their end less painful.(((Best))) yet still not enough…

My beloved Fiona died in July of 2000 and her sister Kate a year later in July of 2001. Both had kidney failure, much like your D. With both of them, I knew that I would choose euthanasia at some point.

Like you, I struggled with the question of when. Too early, and maybe I was cheating them of life they would have enjoyed. Maybe I was trying to save myself the suffering of seeing them sick, not them the suffering of being sick. Too late, and I was responsible for these dear creatures enduring suffering they did not understand.

If I were someone who prayed, I would have prayed to know when was the right time.

Fortunately, they both gave me signals I could understand, both in the form of withdrawal. For Fi, it was hiding in the bathroom, which was not at all typical for her. For Kate, it was being listless and refusing her treats. In both cases, I took them to the vet the very next day. I cried my eyes out while they were alive, but felt remarkably at peace once they had died. To me, that means I chose the time well–or rather that my girls helped me choose well. For us, that was relatively early in the course of their illness, but I know others differ.

One thing that helped was that the vet gave them a heavy dose of painkiller while I was holding them, and then he said “She doesn’t know we are here anymore” and when I was ready, he took her from me and administered the final overdose in another room. I found that less painful than the way it was done with another beloved cat, in which the overdose was administered in my presence. My vet discussed this with me ahead of time, which was very, very helpful. I don’t know if this is common practice, but I imagine your vet might be willing to do this.

Another bit of advice is that is a good website for feline kidney failure. They have a link to a useful message board, too.

I am so sorry about D’s illness. I know you think you cannot do this, but you can, precisely because you love D so much.

I’m saving this thread. I know I’ll have to face these decisions somday soon because all my beloved animals are getting old. I have a 19 yo. horse, a 12 yo. cat, an 11 yo. dog…etc…you get the picture. I have thought about this a lot, probably more than I should, and I hope I can put my animals’ needs before my own selfish wants. I hope I have many years left with all of my pets, but I know sooner or later the health is going to fail…

I am trying to hold back tears, so bear with me.

She wasn’t even my cat. Pearl was an all white cat, that was an indoor/outdoor. She had a beautiful pink nose, and would TALK to you constantly. My girlfriend had raised her from birth. She was tough, but sweet and personable.

She came up missing one Saturday morning, and we searched for days. God, this is not easy.

Anyway, to make a long sad story shorter, I took a day off of work to help look. And I found her. Under the house across the street. She had been there probably since that Saturday. I ended up burying her in the back yard of my girlfriends place. I can’t help but sit here crying as I type this, thinking that she was all alone, when the end came.

Holding your pet, or your loved one in your arms when they pass is preferable, in my opinion. They are comfortable, and KNOW they are loved and not alone. Don’t wait too long.

Whoever said that vets are in a delicate position when discussing euthanasia was right on the money. Vets are obligated to go over all possible courses of treatment, and are very reluctant to even bring up euthanaisia because that is a very personal decision. About the only time vets really push for putting a pet to sleep is if the pet is very ill or injured and owners cannot afford to treat properly. However, if you, as a client, bring up euthanasia, a good vet will never look down on you for it (unless you are suggesting putting a perfectly healthy pet to sleep). So don’t be afraid to talk to your vet about the option of euthanizing. Your cat’s renal problems are quite significant, you already know this. There has been a massive amount of weight loss. Your vet hasn’t been able to offer an encouraging prognosis. You have to administer SQ fluids and oral medications, which the cat doesn’t like. Still, ultimately, it has to be entirely up to you how long you want this to go on. You know your pet better than anyone. Only you can decide how much he may or may not be suffering. I do agree with the person who said that when a pet stops eating and drinking, that is a pretty clear signal.

If it were my cat in this situation, with a chronic, uncurable problem, I would not opt to treat. My cat Cherokee, for example, hates the vet and every time I bring him to work with me, he has to be knocked out, even for a simple blood draw. He would despise me for medicating him two or three times a day and SQ fluids? Forget it. For him, “treating” him would be worse than just letting him go quietly and with dignity. The only way I would ever consider putting my cat through something like that was if the vet gave him a great prognosis.

I’ve been a vet tech for several years and I have seen so many animals suffer needlessly because people just don’t know when to let go. I’ve become very firm about what to do with my own animals. I love them, they are my babies, but I will not do anything if all it will do is prolong suffering.

I’m not saying that what is right for me is what is going to be right for you. It goes back to what I said before: it is a personal decision. You have to look into your heart and decide what is truly best for your friend. You have to think of him, not of yourself. Euthanasia is not an execution, it is the ulitmate gift of love.

If at all possible, try to get your vet, or a different vet if you have to, to come to your house. Actually years before Sophie became ill I had been searching one out, because I just couldn’t stand the idea of putting her through the discomfort and distress of being dragged to the vet’s office. Blech.

Our dogs all died at home, on familiar ground, in our arms.

My vet was pretty cool. too, she brought a candle and lit it, read a little poem, and she took a piece of clay and took an impression of Sophie’s paw and a lock of her hair and pressed it into it. She did the same thing for Rufus.

My sister made an urn big enough to hold both their ashes.


I don’t want to cry again.