We knew this day would come.
|Max for short!|
This dear soul clothed in the skin of a domestic cat was always the sick one.
|Max (left) with his brother Wally (right)|
Well YES!! We would do that. ANYTHING!! And they trained us in the technique.
And so began the journey of nursing a 3 year old cat with a bad diagnosis for years and years.
When he died, 5 days ago, he was 11 years old! ELEVEN YEARS! No one would have guessed that a "few years" would extend to 8 years.
In March he began to lose weight. The vet confirmed his kidney lab values were dropping. His appetite had dropped off dramatically. We continued the fluids every other night, and then every night at half dose to even out his hydration. We scoured the stores for foods that would tempt him to eat. We fed him several times a day. We carefully monitored him for quality of life issues. We enjoyed every moment because we knew the moments were rapidly disappearing.
He tried and he tried and he tried. But by the time we reached June, we knew we were losing the battle. The time had come to make that terribly tough decision - the one where you put the needs of your pet ahead of your own desires.
Time to say goodbye.
You are missed, dear Max. So very very much. Rest in peace with all the other dear souls that have gone before you.