He grew thinner and thinner, and within the past several months he became completely emaciated. We started feeding him wet cat food, hoping it would put some weight back on our sweet boy, but it didn't work. Instead, he lost most of his teeth rather rapidly. Just this year, he started having difficulty walking due to arthritis and controlling his bowels. He would get bad bouts of diarrhea that would last for days and dehydrate him. So last night, we made the very painful decision that today we would put him down. I keep telling myself that he has had seventeen and a half very good years of being loved and spoiled, and loving us back. He lived almost five years past his life expectancy and outlived his brother from the same litter by just over four years. (Icteric died from a sudden seizure, possibly a stroke). It was an act of mercy; heartbreaking, guilt-ridden mercy.
I feel terrible, as I was the one who finally made the decision to let him go. I feel like a villain, even though I know this was the right thing to do. He was suffering from numerous ailments and so fragile that he would literally fall over when one of the other cats would brush up affectionately against him. I will miss my Sceadwe who has been my shadow for nearly two decades. He is at peace pain free now and hopefully with his brother Icteric. He will always be in my heart.
Until next time, peace and be safe.
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