Skinny Cat is dying. Kidney disease.
She’s home, now. I had to bring her home.
She’s not in any pain, the vet said. She’s not suffering.
Still, he said
I know. This is not unexpected. But I was not prepared, not today.
I wanted her home, for a little while longer.
Just a little while longer.
AbsurdBeats 
I’m glad I got to meet your precious. Such a sweet gal. It’s hard to say goodbye.
You’ve given her a great life. This is so hard. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.
Thanks, to both of you.
I know it’s time, because as hard as it is to say goodbye, it’s harder to watch her like this.
I can’t claim to know what she’s thinking, but I’d bet that, all other things being equal, she’d rather live. Unfortunately, all other things are no longer equal.
What’s best for her? She’s dying, and nothing will reverse that. Do I let her fade away, i.e., get to the point where she can no longer lift her head—which may take days, or even weeks—or recognize that that’s all her life would be, a deterioration?
I thought it would be better if she could go on her own time, which is why I brought her home. But. . . no.
So, tomorrow it is.