This last weekend Peaches took a turn for the worse. After we received his diagnosis we set up a space for him in our bedroom with water, fancy soft cat food, and a small litterbox. He loved the special treatment and seemed to improve. I had hoped the cancer would be slower-moving, but it was always our intention to take him in as soon as his quality of life deteriorated. On Sunday it was obvious he was no longer comfortable so today we made plans to take him in the vet one last time.
Once we set up shop for Peaches in our bedroom he was content. He didn’t leave the room and only got up to drink, eat, or use the litterbox. He purred a lot and was very affectionate.
Last night I woke up at about three a.m. to the sound of Peaches struggling to get up on the bed. He was having difficulty walking yet he insisted on making the effort to get on the bed and snuggle with us.
The sweet round curves of his face were gone. He had lost so much weight he resembled only an angular Siamese and lost much of the bulk that really made him look Manx.
He purred. And purred.
On another day I will tell you hilarious stories about Peach. He was a funny, funny cat with a lovable personality and very distinct likes and dislikes.
On another day though. Right now I’m too sad.