Kismet has been in failing health for some time.

We had made the decision this morning to euthanize her, as her good days seemed to be vanishing. There is always a second-guessing when euthanizing a pet, a damned-if-you-do damned-if-you-don’t balancing act between ending a life to soon, and letting an animal suffer because you don’t want to make the decision.

When we brought her in, the vet determined that she had metastized abdominal cancer. It was no longer a question of whether she would die soon, just whether she would die peacefully.

Farewell, kiddo. You had a rough first five years, and a great last ten.