We said goodbye to Skippy this morning. Last night, he started peeing where he lay. I changed his blanket twice during the night. He turned his nose up at all food.
This morning, he walked down the hall, cried, peed, and laid down, his tail in the urine.
He could barely stand.
His stomach wasn't right. It's hard to explain, but when DaNiece was so skinny, when she lay down, you could see how skinny she was. No belly at all. Skip had a belly. And it wasn't hard like the other cats, it was mushy.
His urine didn't get any lighter off of the doxycycline, but that may be something that would have taken time to resolve. He didn't have that time.
I called the vet right when they opened. We were there when the vet got to work. Skippy had been taken into the back and had a catheter placed in his leg. We were called into an examining room.
The nurse told us that Skip was pretty cold and that he had done this retching thing. He was on a towel and covered with a thicker towel, to keep him warm. While we waited, I had my face against his on the table, when he started to seize. Brian held him down, and one of the nurses quickly got the doctor.
The doctor came in with the goodbye meds and it was over in no time.
I'm just heartbroken. If we could have gotten him over this hump, I'd have done it with no second thought. But there were no second chances. It was done. It was over. He's moved on.
I spent this weekend outside with him. Like Brian said this morning, all of our cats have done one last time around the yard when they're ready to go. Even though Skip couldn't see, he was relaxed yesterday. I had hope.
It wasn't meant to be.