I start crying every time I try to think of this. My furry monster is dying. Lilly's liver is enlarging and it's not something she is going to recover from. I've got to accept the fact that my furry monster is going to leave me well before I'm ready to let her go. And I've got to have a plan.
If she goes down late at night or on a weekend, the vet isn't open and there isn't a local emergency vet. I won't be looking for life-saving measures though. Just a way to release her from her pain if it happens that way. Then there is after. Cremation. How the hell do you plan something like this while looking at her sleeping peacefully on the end table?
I've lost one cat, Tigger, but it was suddenly. She'd been sick, but her dying was sudden. An asthma attack hit while I was asleep and when one of the other kits woke me, she was taking her last breaths. I was hysterical. Now I've got to watch and wait KNOWING it's coming, just not when. It could be a week or a month. I doubt she'll see Yule though. It'd be nice if she made it to her 7 year Gotcha Day anniversary on Samhain.
My Maine Coon mix now weighs less than my 21 year old tabby. She's barely over six pounds and feels like a skeleton in most places. Her weight loss just sets off the bulge now becoming evident at the bottom of her rib cage. It's her liver getting too big. No idea what happened to cause it or if it would have happened no matter what. She is still eating to a small degree and is on two medications, about to be three. An iron supplement is being added as she's become anemic. But it's just putting off the inevitable. My daughter is going to die. My furry little child is going to be gone too soon. Always so full of life and fun. A purring lap blanket who saved my heart when I lost Tigger.
I'll never have another tortie in my house. Losing another is going to kill me.