Pikachu was doing better.. until he wasn't. That's the best way I can sum up the decision to let him go.
He'd been tested for everything under the sun. Almost a grand in vet bills trying to find out what was wrong with this guy in the last two months, but nothing came to light.
Last Saturday morning, he kept crying, and wanting held...he had been really needy for over a week..he hadn't left my side...when I was immobile, there he was.
I could still feelt his bones thru his fluffy fur when I pet him, once a big stocky cat well over 10 lbs, he was reduced to an under 5lb bag of bones and fur...and then, he couldn't seem to get comfortable.
I put him on the electric blanket and I watched him sleep...his eyes not fully closed, and his breathing slowed to a stop for longer than I felt comfortable with, a few times.
And then..something snapped in me. I had been through this before, and I didn't want him to suffer any longer. I felt like he was telling me he was ready to go.
I reluctantly said goodbye to that handsome guy last weekend. While the decision to say goodbye never gets any easier, the decision to not let them suffer any more becomes a bit easier.
Pikachu's Mom was my own cat. I watched him come out of the womb. I loved him from the moment he was born, and 15 years later, I was still not ready to let him go!!
I have one remaining cat. I went from 4..to one. This girl lost her brother and her mom, and after a bout of sadness....seems to be ready to get on with her life...