Once there, they took you immediately into the back to stabilize you the best they could. You were still hanging on, but barely. The vet and vet techs were so kind to you. They wrapped you in warm blankets and gave you fluids through an IV. They tried to take your blood pressure, temperature, and heart rate, but the levels were not perceptible or only just perceptible. Your heartbeat was a soft flutter. The vet, Daddy, and Mommy knew what needed to be done, although nobody wanted to say goodbye to you this soon. Your blood vessels were collapsing in on themselves and the vet thought that there must've been a mass on your intestines that burst.
Mommy went in the back to say goodbye. Daddy sat and cried and Mommy cried and petted you. You were barely conscious, and going quickly. The vet gave you the first shot (anesthetic) and your chin immediately hit your paws. You didn't really need the second (actual) shot, but the vet gave it to you just to be sure. Mommy knew you were gone already. The vet tried to find your heartbeat but you were gone.
Mommy went to be with Daddy, and they cried for a while. The vet brought your body in to them, and they brought you home. Daddy dug a hole while Mommy opened the box for the rest of us to see your body. We all knew already. Autumn doesn't really know what death means, though, but she sniffed you and wondered why you were in a box. She thought it was weird that you didn't respond, so she sniffed you again. Panther sniffed you, looked you all over, touched noses with Autumn, and left the room. Mommy brought Tabby out to see. The others decided not to come over to sniff, because goodbyes had been said already. Daddy opened the box and lifted your body out gently, petted it, talked to you, then set your body in the hole and covered it with dirt and a cinder block to keep raccoons away.
Your body is buried by the roses in the backyard, where we buried Miss Marble and close to where we buried Carbon. You always loved flowers. We will never forget you, our idiosyncratic non-feral feral who knew where to go and what to do when she needed help. You did the first time we met you, and you did the last time we saw you alive.
Missy was between 8 and 9 years old, as near as we can figure. She came to us at the age of approximately 2 1/2 years old and was Daddy Scott's constant companion and chief snuggler. It took her a year to purr for him, but then she didn't stop. She tried to climb in coat sleeves when she got petted, but would bite if she felt it was too much. We love you, and we always will. You are at peace now, Missy, and out of pain.