Sadness
Rossini is slowly retiring from the world. I've been to the vet again with him, but she said that there isn't really anything she can do. The foot injury seems healed, but Rossini does not seem able to walk normally any more, he just stumbles and drags himself, well he did, as of yesterday he doesn't get out of the travel carrier, which he elected as his safe zone, at all. He nibbles at liquid food when I put it in front of his nose, but in minimal dosage. He also is definitely blind now (he hasn't seen much for quite some time but now he is completely helpless).
I put him in the litterbox every few hours but nothing really happens.
He still purrs when I caress him though and he does not seem in pain, the vet said so too. She offered to put him to sleep, but I - for now - declined. As long as he is happy to see me, enjoys soft, cautious cuddles and licks up a bit of food, I will keep him warm and comfortable and stay near him as much as I can. Fortunately today and tomorrow I have a lot of work to do from home, which I can do sitting on the floor near him. It might be selfish, but I want to get as much Rossini-time as I can.
But as soon as I realize he is suffering, I will absolutely do everything to avoid unnecessary pain. That, I owe him.
In the meantime, I am obviously miserable and whiny and crying off and on. That cat has been part of my life for more than 15 years, and has seen me through quite a few very difficult moments, starting with his arrival in December 2002, after the death of my fur soul mate Cios. I know it is difficult to understand for those who do not form deep and meaningful relationships with animals, but if Rossini had not entered my life back then, I might well have ended up either in a psychiatric hospital or dead. I have a somewhat hazy memory of that period, let me just say things were kind of dramatic back then. No LJ yet either, a SO who had just dropped me, precarious health and a few other problematic circumstances. That red fluffball truly saved me and I will never be grateful enough.
Well, time for obituaries when he really crosses the Rainbow Bridge. For now, I cannot but try to be there for him as much as possible and talk to him, caress his head.. and slowly accept that he is shutting down. Those truly are the hardest moments in life, having to let go somebody you love.
Tomorrow afternoon, the vet comes to our place to take Blanche's blood to reevaluate the thyroid meds. Then she'll have a look at my poor boy and we'll decide how to continue.
Going to distract myself with some counter speech. Constructive resistance is good for the soul....
I put him in the litterbox every few hours but nothing really happens.
He still purrs when I caress him though and he does not seem in pain, the vet said so too. She offered to put him to sleep, but I - for now - declined. As long as he is happy to see me, enjoys soft, cautious cuddles and licks up a bit of food, I will keep him warm and comfortable and stay near him as much as I can. Fortunately today and tomorrow I have a lot of work to do from home, which I can do sitting on the floor near him. It might be selfish, but I want to get as much Rossini-time as I can.
But as soon as I realize he is suffering, I will absolutely do everything to avoid unnecessary pain. That, I owe him.
In the meantime, I am obviously miserable and whiny and crying off and on. That cat has been part of my life for more than 15 years, and has seen me through quite a few very difficult moments, starting with his arrival in December 2002, after the death of my fur soul mate Cios. I know it is difficult to understand for those who do not form deep and meaningful relationships with animals, but if Rossini had not entered my life back then, I might well have ended up either in a psychiatric hospital or dead. I have a somewhat hazy memory of that period, let me just say things were kind of dramatic back then. No LJ yet either, a SO who had just dropped me, precarious health and a few other problematic circumstances. That red fluffball truly saved me and I will never be grateful enough.
Well, time for obituaries when he really crosses the Rainbow Bridge. For now, I cannot but try to be there for him as much as possible and talk to him, caress his head.. and slowly accept that he is shutting down. Those truly are the hardest moments in life, having to let go somebody you love.
Tomorrow afternoon, the vet comes to our place to take Blanche's blood to reevaluate the thyroid meds. Then she'll have a look at my poor boy and we'll decide how to continue.
Going to distract myself with some counter speech. Constructive resistance is good for the soul....