I took Freya to the vet. They gave her a sedative while I held her. When she was relaxed, they took her away for the IV to stop her heart. I didn’t need to watch that. She was sweet at the end.
Ah well. Other than Doodle the Ferret, who was much more Rebecca’s baby, this is the first pet that I’ve lost as an adult and the only one that I had raised from a baby.
I’m taking Freya, my kitty with cancer, to die in the morning. She pretty much quit eating over the last two days. I got some wet food and she managed to eat some of that that today. The only water she drank was a couple of mouthfuls when the tom was getting his. Up until these last couple of days, she’s been active and begging for food every day. Not a peep out of here today or yesterday for food or water.
She’s started hobbling a bit more and she’s starting to just sit and stare into space. She was in our main bathroom, just sitting upright by the toilet, staring off into the corner, for about two hours today. This isn’t resting and sleeping but sitting up and just kind of looking dazed in a random direction.
She quit cleaning herself the day before yesterday. She literally stinks and I gave her a kitty bath with kitty shampoo. It’s like the cat version of hippy funk (including anything she sits on). When I bathed her, she started wheezing with her breathes and toddered away after I fluff dried her.
So, this is the week for her downhill slide. Realistically, she probably has a few more days but she’s not going to do well through the weekend. The vet is closed Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. She’s only going to get more miserable if she can’t eat and won’t drink. I don’t want to make her wait to die badly or painfully over the weekend if she continues the current trend.
So, I made an appointment for tomorrow morning. It’s kind of made this evening rather glum for R and me. She’s around and wants attention but seems confused, upset, and unhappy.
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