(no subject)
He hadn't been himself for the past couple of weeks, but apparently the last couple of days he'd been looking pretty bad. My mom said his stomach was looking a little big, despite him not eating too much lately. Also, he wasn't going to the bathroom regularly for a week. She was going to take him to the vet on Thursday, the next time she has respite for my grandfather. Last night, Patches looked awful, so she called Doris to ask if she could stay with Zaidy for a bit today while my mom took Patches to the vet. The vet said that Patches had liver and kidney failure, and internal bleeding. Tests would probably show cancer. He was dying and the nicest thing to do for him, at 17, having lived a very good, long, spoiled rotten life, was to put him down. They gave him a sedative and my mom stayed and petted him when they gave him the shot and he was gone in less than a minute.
I wish I could have pet him one last time, but he was in pain, so it was for the best.
I love you, Mr. McGee.
I wish I could have pet him one last time, but he was in pain, so it was for the best.
I love you, Mr. McGee.
