They're Not Just Pets

My 18 year old baby is having trouble walking, and is visibly unwell.
She's a tortoise shell cat that I got at a pet store in 1992. She's cantankerous, and doesn't like much of anyone, and hangs her butt over the litter box on a regular basis - missing it.
Her name is LaVerne and yes, she used to have a partner - Shirley. While LaVerne would scoff at most affection she LOOOOOOOVED Shirley. Once Shirley was at the vet and LaVerne howled for hours looking for her. If Shirley had found a particularly comfy hiding spot to sleep, and LaVerne couldn't find her - again with the howling, until we drug out the sleeping ball of fur to show her that Shirley was ok.

I held her in bed after she got fixed (it's cruel that they don't give animals pain killers after - how would YOU like a hysterectomy and no pain killers after?) and we both cried - big tears running down our faces.

She has a small worm which is really just pom-pom balls sewn together that as a kitten she'd fetch, and as an older cat she still loves. It's her baby and every time we move, we make a point to secure Wormy someplace that we can get him out immediately.

She knows that wherever Wormy is - that's home. Always has been. For 18 years.

Suddenly today, she cries when she walks, and she's walking poorly. She struggled down the stairs, had some water and struggled back up them and under my bed.

I took Wormy and slid him under the bed to her. I don't know if I am strong enough to make a decision to put her down. I guess I just hope if it comes to that, I'll do the right thing.

Until then, she has Wormy, a warm safe place and all my love. I don't know what else to do for her.