Whisper-R.I.P.

From my OTW:

We took him to the vet this morning, as soon as they opened. About two hours later Dr Tara called us. It was an extremely aggressive form of cancer, and it was right under his tongue.

Over the last week, he was clearly having more and more trouble with the kibble, and stopped even trying a few days ago, though nothing could stop him from at least making an attempt at his beloved Temptations. We started feeding him canned food whenever he came around the food bowls. At first that was good, and he happily snorfed whatever he could get, trawling Jack and Persephone's bowls for extras if I wasn't watching. But over the last few days, he seemed to be having more and more trouble with even the canned food, rarely finishing what I gave him, lapping a good deal of it into a thin layer on the bottom of the bowl. Last night, around 10:30, about the time I was supposed to pick up the food so he wouldn't eat, in case it was a tooth problem and he needed surgery, I left him the last teaspoon of canned food from earlier, scraped together to make it easier for him. He didn't even bother trying, just sat forlornly at his bowl.

A little while later he spent half an hour 'fishing' in the water fountain, something I'd never seen him do before. He'd lick off his paws, but when he put his nose to the water, he wouldn't lap any up, even though he'd still been drinking fine in the morning. A few hours later, when I went to bed, he crawled in under the blankets with me, like he had for the last few months, but for the first time in a week, he would not settle in. Finally he curled up beside me and dozed off. I think I knew it was really bad then, since the one thing besides eating this cat was good at was sleeping, and that was mostly what he'd been doing all week.

There was nothing the Dr Tara could have done for him. The cancer is type she's seen lots of in older cats. It's very aggressive and it's location ensured that within a few days it would have been impossible for Whisper to eat or drink at all.

Around 12pm our time we got back to the clinic. He was mostly asleep on valium, given to him to calm him while they did their examination. We gave him lots of smooches and pettins and let Dr Tara put him to sleep before he woke to any more pain.

Rest in peace, Grumpy Old Man-cat. I hope there was lots of Temptations and tuna juice waiting for you when you got to the Bridge.



Also, I would like to note, today is Jack's birthday. He's 11 years old. Not a very happy birthday, I'm afraid, but I'll try to make it up to him later. He's always been patient with me about that sort of thing.