Late Thursday night, after having some friends in from out of town, we noticed something was off. At first we thought it was because there had been 4 kids chasing him for three days. But that wasn't it. Upon closer inspection, I noticed he hadn't eaten that day. And probably not the day before. And he definitely hadn't used the litter box at all since we'd changed it. Three days ago.
He was lethargic, not eating and not even wanting kitty treats. I called the after-hours pet hospital and they told me to bring him in immediately.
I loaded up an abnormally willing and silent Wash into the cat carrier and went to the emergency care clinic. Four very long hours later, the prognosis was grim. Enlarged spleen, enlarged liver and masses in his lungs.
Cancer.
His body was riddled with it. They wanted to send him to an oncologist for further tests to confirm what I could already see. My sweet cat was in pain and not long for this life. After leaving him at the hospital overnight for pain medications and fluids, I came home and sobbed. My kitty, my friend, was going to die.
Jason and I prayed and prayed for a solution but by morning it was clear - we had to put him down. So we bundled the kids into the car and went as a family to say goodbye and be with our furry family member one last time. I was able to hold him while it was done and he purred right up until the end. Heartbreaking doesn't even begin to describe the experience. I know it was the right thing to do but I wish with all my heart there could have been another way.
As Friday passed, I finally felt peace. Peace that we had done the right thing. I'm still very sad. We lost a friend and that will take time to get over. But he's not suffering and that brings a warmth to my heart. He was a great cat and nothing will change that or the wonderful memories we have of him. I'm just grateful we got to have him for as long as we did.
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