eepinho
Tomorrow is your dying day
A year after his last serious illness and he has been very unwell again for more than a month.
He is very weak and can hardly climb up onto the sofa to sit with us. We've put a small stool to the side so he doesn't have to climb the whole height in one go. Even so, he sometimes needs to be lifted onto the sofa from the stool. He lets us know this with a pathetic little call so different from his former imperious yells that it is heartbreaking to hear. His favourite position is stretched out sphynx-like on the floor. I've just left him in the living room like that to go to my bed. Possibly, he does this to alleviate the pain he must be feeling in his belly.
He drinks small amounts every now and then and picks at his food, unsurprising considering that he hasn't emptied his bowels properly for a few days. As before, he constantly wants the food in his bowl to be changed but, when it is, he doesn't touch the replacement either. He is just fur covered bones now. If he makes it to Tuesday, he has an appointment at the vet. He may not be coming home from that.
He has danced, while he may, for over 21 years, a great deal longer than most cats are allowed. For practically all of this time, it has been a pleasure to dance (not literally) with him and it has never been dull. If ony we had an eternity in which to dance.
Last night, I had rather rushed the composition of this description as I wanted to check on him again. I found him in the kitchen eyeing the contents of his food bowl rather dubiously. He "requested" that it be changed and I complied, more in hope than expectation. Of course, he only licked the fresh food a bit, cleaned his tongue in the water bowl and waited to see what I would do next. I went over to the living room, sat down in a bean bag and he slowly and painfully followed me. He didn't manage to climb into the bean bag so I hoisted him up into my lap and, after a bit of stumbling about, he ended up supported by my right arm and being fussed by my left hand. When he'd had enough of this, he jumped back onto the floor. Actually it was more like he ended up on the floor by default and every time he does this I am terrified that he will add broken bones to the mounting list of overwhelming medical problems he is facing. He climbed onto the little stool and managed to make it onto the sofa. I left him carving a little hole in which to sleep.
Sleep well, little Ori, and dream of the times we have had together. I hope you enjoyed them as much as we did.
2014-06-03 08:20 He didn't make it to the vet.
Tomorrow is your dying day
A year after his last serious illness and he has been very unwell again for more than a month.
He is very weak and can hardly climb up onto the sofa to sit with us. We've put a small stool to the side so he doesn't have to climb the whole height in one go. Even so, he sometimes needs to be lifted onto the sofa from the stool. He lets us know this with a pathetic little call so different from his former imperious yells that it is heartbreaking to hear. His favourite position is stretched out sphynx-like on the floor. I've just left him in the living room like that to go to my bed. Possibly, he does this to alleviate the pain he must be feeling in his belly.
He drinks small amounts every now and then and picks at his food, unsurprising considering that he hasn't emptied his bowels properly for a few days. As before, he constantly wants the food in his bowl to be changed but, when it is, he doesn't touch the replacement either. He is just fur covered bones now. If he makes it to Tuesday, he has an appointment at the vet. He may not be coming home from that.
He has danced, while he may, for over 21 years, a great deal longer than most cats are allowed. For practically all of this time, it has been a pleasure to dance (not literally) with him and it has never been dull. If ony we had an eternity in which to dance.
Last night, I had rather rushed the composition of this description as I wanted to check on him again. I found him in the kitchen eyeing the contents of his food bowl rather dubiously. He "requested" that it be changed and I complied, more in hope than expectation. Of course, he only licked the fresh food a bit, cleaned his tongue in the water bowl and waited to see what I would do next. I went over to the living room, sat down in a bean bag and he slowly and painfully followed me. He didn't manage to climb into the bean bag so I hoisted him up into my lap and, after a bit of stumbling about, he ended up supported by my right arm and being fussed by my left hand. When he'd had enough of this, he jumped back onto the floor. Actually it was more like he ended up on the floor by default and every time he does this I am terrified that he will add broken bones to the mounting list of overwhelming medical problems he is facing. He climbed onto the little stool and managed to make it onto the sofa. I left him carving a little hole in which to sleep.
Sleep well, little Ori, and dream of the times we have had together. I hope you enjoyed them as much as we did.
2014-06-03 08:20 He didn't make it to the vet.