Back in March, we brought Tiggr home from the vet after he’d spent a few days there getting rehydrated. That’s when we found out that he had fairly advanced renal failure.
We’ve been taking him twice a week for subcutaneous fluids, and, other than being painfully thin — he’s under 7 pounds, and has been for awhile — he’s been doing pretty well.
But now, for the past 24 hours anyway, he’s pretty much stopped eating. He just looks at his food and plays with the snacks we give him, and sleeps a lot. And he did not jump up on the bed with us last night, except once (the wife says he was up there at 3:30AM, but I was dead to the world, according to my Fitbit). Normally he’s up there several times and ends up sleeping in between us.
While he’s still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, jumping up on things and climbing on his people, I think today when we take him for fluids again, the verdict is going to be fairly obvious.
I’m certainly upset about this, but I don’t think I’m as upset as I was with Snoopy. This is a cat, after all, who nearly died when he was 3 from ingesting the better part of a bobbin of thread from my wife’s sewing machine. We’ve had 12 years with him that we came very close to not having.
But it’s still hard.