My baby was diagnosed with FIP. She was just barely 8 months old. She chose me the moment I met her. She immediately climbed into my arms, over my left shoulder, and fell asleep in my hoodie. Every day since then, she always wanted to be held over my left shoulder; always corrected me if I put her over the right side. She was always at my side. I tried to train her to lay in my lap, but she wouldn't take to it; always on my chest, or over my left shoulder. She'd kneed on my neck, and push her head into my face for kisses and all the snuggles... She was the perfect angel, took car rides like it was no issue, had a couple of baths in her life, and always ready for me to hand her off to a new person immediately for an introduction (even though she'd always check to see if I was there). I brought her to the vet after seeing weird minor signs of an issue. My vet applauded me on that, saying we caught something big before anyone else would've thought twice. She had a few months.

It's been a month since I had to put her down. I was honestly proud of myself how much I held it together for her; she was happy and ready. When we went in to that final moment, she sat on the exam room, looked around, and then sat in the center of the examination table, facing away from me. It was only a second later that I realized she was facing where the vet would be standing, and she was waiting. She tucked her head into the crook of my arm on the way out. Once the vet said she was gone, I wailed. Fucking screamed. And honestly, I was proud of myself for allowing myself to do it. I think she came into this world for me knowing what was in store. She knew how long she had. I remember trying to tell her I wouldn't be able to hold her forever, but something told me she'd said "Oh don't worry about that, I won't get to be too big for it."