So he is going to die. I'm hoping that his quality of life will be maintained for the longest duration possible, too. Cats can't understand that treatments which from their perspective are hurtful help them live longer; as far as they're concerned, the humans are putting them through pain and they don't know why. So it's my hope that it won't come down to that. That what he gets will be less destructive to his happiness.
Basically, he's old but he still thoroughly enjoys his life right now. Especially since we got him a play-mate in the form of our little kitty. (The size difference between them is hilarious. Our old cat is a big cat. He is big for cats. Our younger cat is basically a runt. She's over a year old and thus fully grown and yet she's small.)
I also don't want our little kitty to be lonely with him gone, so yes I want him to live, and yes I enjoy his presence so in that way I also want him to live, but I don't want him to suffer, and yet at some point I fear those two will come into conflict and no matter what there will be pain involved.
But...there's not much we can really do. He's over fourteen years old, now. The average life expectancy is 16-20ish, so he is getting up there. And while he on the outside still looks like a cat in his prime, still looks like a vibrant, youthful kitty and acts that way, too...internally, his body IS that of an old elder.
I know it's a part of life...but I hate it.
Everything dies eventually, and in some ways knowing about it makes you more prepared for when it comes, but...in other ways it is just so, so much worse.
I don't like losing things dear to me.
Least of all, knowing I will lose it and yet still having it.
And knowing that depending on the nature of treatments, it could lead to them suffering down the road.
It's just...not something I like to deal with.
I try to recognize that death is a celebration of life.
That to die gives meaning to life.
That it makes me appreciate the time that I have.
And so on and so forth.
But I still selfishly, greedily, want more.