It's official. Eldest cat isn't getting any better. His appetite is still not up to par, he's losing motor control of his limbs, can't climb into the litter box any more, and is in so much discomfort he wants to hide in his kennel when he's not eating or drinking.
I want to cuddle with him, but the best I can do is lie beside his kennel for a few minutes every couple of hours and let him lean against my hand. We've made the decision, this is his last weekend and we're making the most of it. Come Monday, I call the vet to make the appointment.
I don't know how many times I've broken down crying the past two days. He's bounced back from so many health issues the past 19 years, I was beginning to think he'd out last me. But letting him live any longer is just going to be torture for him, and I can't let him continue to hurt.
Oh, how I hate this. Everything I write this weekend is dark and tragic. Well, what little I'm actually managing to write, that is.
2 Responses
You have my sympathy and early condolences, it’s definitely not easy letting go of a well-loved pet.
Thank you.