I don’t always take calls in my car, but the call was from the friend I planned to have dinner with, so a brief conversation on when and where to meet seemed in order.

Barely a few seconds after we exchanged greetings and referred to the unpredictable weather, making our first choice for dinner — eating carry-outs by the lake — not a viable option, Jesse began talking about having an “unexpected” obligation.

She didn’t ask to cancel or postpone, but I could tell something was on her mind besides whether we’d pick up Thai or Mexican for our long overdue evening of catching up.

Jesse dropped bits of information about the many things she was juggling; the proposals she delivered weeks before that were finally getting responses, confirmation that she had to start looking for a new place to live, and the latest news on her cat.

As a single woman over sixty myself, I know how important it is to share your space with a dog or cat. I can’t imagine life without having  a special friend who’s always happy to see you, can easily bliss out on small displays of affection, and exercises an uncanny sense for when to leave you alone and when you need to walk away from your computer and play.

As Carolina is FAMILY to Jesse, my dog, India, is FAMILY to me.

For many months, her feline friend had been in decline. During periodic phone calls, I heard about just some of the things she did to extend thirteen year-old Carolina’s life. Frequent vet visits, special food and medication, constant litter box cleaning, flattened out cardboard boxes and plastic laid around her dining table in case of accidents — all these things became part of their home life for months.

Jesse summed things up simply, “I know this couldn’t go on. She’s down to almost five pounds. I checked with Anti-Cruelty to see what is involved in having them euthanize her. I have a 4:30 appointment for today.”

While I knew Jesse came to her decision after a lot of thought, it also felt like she was still justifying the last 5% that wasn’t ready to release the idea that she could do more.

I’m not sure where the answer came from in me. This errand was certainly not one I expected to perform, but the words came without thinking.

“I’ll pick you up. You shouldn’t have to drive. You have so much on your mind. Besides, you should spend whatever time you can giving Carolina your attention. I’ll come by at 3:45.  I will call when I’m close. Hopefully, you can get her in her carrier.”

We hung up. When I pulled up in front of her building, Jesse was already outside. As she got settled in the passenger’s seat, she described how Carolina put up no protests about getting into the carrier, as if she wanted to make things easier for her.

Jesse placed the plastic box on her lap, lattice-side toward her face, explaining, “So she can see me.”

Per some phone app, Jesse provided driving instructions to me while carrying on a conversation with Carolina.

“You’re such a good friend. You’re such a good kitty.”

These affirmations, these words of love and gratitude continued throughout our drive, our check-in and appointment. In retrospect, I think Jesse used present tense and past tense interchangeably, as in “You’re such a good friend, such a good kitty” became “You’ve been such a good friend, such a good kitty.”

Jesse asked me into the procedure room, which I didn’t expect. The staff was extremely respectful and caring. They explained the two-step process. They’d take Carolina out to another room where they’d give her a sedative then come back for the actual “injection” and final goodbyes.

When they brought Carolina back, she was wrapped in a soft blanket. She looked so small. Calm, almost deliciously sleepy, as if curling up in front of the heating vent in Jesse’s bathroom.

The vet tech was ever so gentle. Carolina didn’t make a fuss. Jesse echoed the day’s mantra.  “You’re such a good kitty. You’ve been such a good friend” and sobbed for a few minutes when it was clear that the life force had left her cat’s body.

On the drive back to her apartment, Jesse expressed being sad but also relieved. Her eyes were especially clear, like the sky after it rains.

She repeated how Carolina went into her carrier uncharacteristically easily. She thanked me for handling the transportation.

I felt so grateful myself for being able to be there, for being able to provide some level of service and for being able to share such an incredible moment of intimacy. I witnessed such vulnerability and unconditional love.

Surrounding yourself with such good friends is no small thing.