So today, Ben and I took Guy Noir to the vet for the last time. When we got there, the vet we saw (Dr. Marin, another wonderful Vet at the clinic) confirmed what we already knew: Guy most likely had FIP. Even if that wasn’t what he was, he was extremely sick with something else. That said he was a textbook case of FIP and no matter what he really wasn’t going to improve. His quality of life was going down. Ben and I had already noticed that Guy had been mewling in pain a lot more, his energy had flagged, he was despondent, he wasn’t pooping, and his abdomen made a lot of things uncomfortable for him.
Even though Ben and I were prepared for the inevitable when we went to vet, I still burst into tears when we asked Dr. Marin if she thought it might be kinder to just euthanize Guy. She told us that she thought we were making the best decision for Guy and for ourselves. The poor thing was still purring while I signed the form, but I do know Ben and I made the right decision. We gave him a few last cuddles before we left the room (I couldn’t stay). We’ll be receiving a pawprint in clay (at no extra charge) from the vet in the next couple of days.
I feel horrible because in some ways, this came on so suddenly. When we got home, Pippa greeted us and started sniffing the crate…which of course led me to burst into tears again. I don’t know if people understand if you’ve never had an animal, but Guy was a loveable companion in my house. I know he’s just a cat in the long run, but he was sweet and caring and fit in perfect with my little family. I don’t know how I could have gotten through this without Ben by myself. I’m sure I would have just broken down at the vet and then buried myself in my bed.
We’ll miss Guy, and I feel horrible that his little life was so short. But what Ben reminded me does make me feel better: he was a shelter cat. So giving him a loving home, even if just for a little while, was the best gift we could give him. He knew he was loved, because he sure was.