Then there are months like this past month. My son was at a day care provider; he attempted a cartwheel and hit his head. He couldn't remember if he had blacked out or not. His direct quote was "everything was dark, I couldn't tell if my eyes were closed". A large goose egg bruise was growing on his head. It was late at night (around 10).
The last place I wanted to be was in the emergency room with him. Not only because it was late, but also because of the expense with our current insurance. So there was no one really to ask - it was my husband and my decisions. I took him to the ER, my husband stayed home with our daughter.
My son is fine, no lasting damage. He doesn't even have a bruise any longer.
|M stretched out sleeping|
He began eating soft food, but the tests showed liver disease. The vet said usually when cats are sick, they stop eating. So he was an anomaly. Even the vet repeatedly called him an enigma. It made me smile, he's always been an enigma and a cat unlike others. (He plays fetch, he's generally good-natured and social).
So other the past month, his health has further declined. He hasn't lost more weight, but he scratches patches of fur from behind his ears and on his front paws. He is a shade of yellow. And he's been incontinent (which I won't go into here). He also has thyroid problems.
This is another time it would be nice to have someone make this decision for me. But it's all me - the buck stops here. My husband and I can let his health continue to decline, listen to him meow (it sounds like crying) all day - or let him go. We could spend thousands of dollars treating and diagnosing him, only to lose him after a great deal of pain.
So we've decided to let him go. This sucks. I'm angry and sad. I knew this day was coming, but I didn't think it would happen like this.