Our family cat is dying. Sam is 17 (at least) and has weighed about 25 pounds for most of his life. We were lucky to have him for so long.
Apparently he has cancer throughout his entire body: lungs, brain, liver, and more. Lest you think my parents are bad cat parents, I can tell you that he's had yearly vet visits and has shown no signs of illness until this week. They brought him home after the diagnosis, hoping that he would recover enough to die there. Unfortunately, he has stopped eating, drinking, and is appearing to be in great pain; they'll take him in today and stay with him while he's euthanized.
I'm bawling like a little kid right now. I know he's had a good life, and I know it's better that he not spend his last days in pain... I'm just so sad.
The "caring less" part, by the way, is about class: I was all nervous this morning about class, and right now I don't care at all. Fuck 'em if they don't like me or my class... it really doesn't matter.
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I'm so sorry to hear this. I remember all too well the death of my 19 year old cat, and I know there's nothing to say to make it better--so I'm just sending hugs. (((((Margie)))))
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