My little ranter has died.
Two weeks ago we were at the vet because he wasn’t eating. They drew blood from his jugular and felt nothing unusual in his neck. The blood work looked good.
Last week we were back because he was worse. The tumor had grown rapidly, because now it could be felt. JB was so weak that surgery wasn’t a reasonable option. Our vet tried a steroid shot to see if she could shrink the tumor and stimulate his appetite.
He ate for a few days, but very little yesterday and nothing today. And he was tired. just worn out.
So this afternoon I said my good-byes, and gave him his rest.
Approximately 17 years ago, Junior and his brother Bubba were feral kittens a co-worker captured at the worksite. I had just said good-bye to my kitty Precious so she put them in a carrier and left them on my desk. I took them home and we were together from then on.
I am gutted. Saying good-bye to two such monumental figures in my heart and in my life in such a short span of time has wiped me out.
I know I haven’t written much lately, and I probably won’t for awhile. I need to grieve.