March 31. Met put to sleep. Admired J and her brother for the strength with which they made the decision that had seemed improbable and avertable only a few minutes before. I didn’t get to see Met often, and very rarely got to pet him – once when I was here for the first time, and once when he was not yet sedated, but already so weakened from the collapse of his bodily functions that he no longer had the strength for his normal PTSD responses. – Life is more mysterious than non-life, but disappearing life is even more mysterious. They don’t close their eyes, the vet said, to prepare us.