It was time.
This was a hard loss for me. For the past few years, his care took up a lot of time. Making sure he was pooping, if he wasn't upping his meds, hand feeding him (which helped me monitor that he was actually eating), giving fluids when needed.
Doing all we could to make him comfortable.
It wasn't working any longer. Something happened Tuesday, we're not sure what, but he was eating in the garage and it was taking longer than I thought it should, I found him outside in the heat, more disoriented than normal (don't forget, he was blind, and I think maybe he'd had a stroke or two since). I brought him in, set him on the bed and he fell over. His back legs, never his strong limbs, couldn't hold him up. And by his breathing, it was obvious it was taking more energy than he was used to. This was a first.
I called the vet to make the goodbye appointment that afternoon, but they were booked and it was too late to bring him in at that point. I made the appointment for first thing yesterday morning.
It was a hard call. A very hard call. He went quietly. He kind of fought the sedation, but he finally relaxed.
There's more to say, but I'm starting to tear up and I don't want to cry today. So, I'll leave the memories for a later time.
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