I've been a little absent from posting lately, dealing with the ups and downs of Tibbs's health this last month. Unfortunately, things just got worse. After the throwing up and hind end issues got better, he stopped eating. It looked like just a side effect of some of the medications, and he responded well to a stay at the vet for IV fluids and a soft diet. We brought him home last weekend looking better and eating. But he stopped eating again a few days later. All the tests he'd had done thus far had come back normal, and his xrays looked okay, too. The radiologist had seen something questionable, though, and Tibbs had an appointment later this coming week for an ultrasound to determine exactly what it was. We went to the vet Friday morning . . . he'd lost so much weight, and seemed so weak and frail. So many options as to what to do next . . . thank God, our vet was able to get us in immediately to the area vet hospital to do the ultrasound, so we could know what we were working with. They'd even planned to do a biopsy of the questionable area, during the ultrasound, if his blood clotting levels came back alright. But they didn't. The ultrasound revealed 3 tumors in his liver, and what looked to be an enlarged, abnormal lymphnode . . . . cancer, as best they could tell without the biopsy. There were options, of course . . . a blood transfusion, more poking and prodding, steroids just to buy a little time, chemo . . . nothing our sweet Tibbs should have to go through. A simple yet gut-wrenching choice.
We're thankful that we were able to spend time with him for as long as we needed, to stroke our handsome boy, smother him with kisses, say our goodbyes, even laugh a bit as he chirped at us a few times. But most of all, to make sure that he knew how much he was loved, that we were right there by his side and would never leave him. He was so peaceful . . . so beautiful.
We brought him home and laid him to rest in the back corner of our yard, wrapped in his favorite blue blanket and holding his favorite ladybug toy.
To say that we've been mourning these past few days is an understatement . . . it's been a scene of wet, swollen eyes and blowing noses . . . of sobbing and holding on to each other . . . of walking around in a fog. I'm not sure what's been harder: dealing with my own grief and emotions, or watching Jack deal with his. Being at home is difficult, as we see him everywhere, around every corner, in every spot that he made his own. We couldn't take it yesterday, and spent our day shopping, eating out, and catching a movie . . . a good choice.
Tibbs was just the sweetest cat. Never an ounce of trouble. He had the best cat personality . . . such a little lover. And everybody loved him, too . . . . all his vets and vet techs always made a fuss about how sweet he was and what a handsome boy we had ! He was our buddy, our little fuzzy man for these last 8 years . . . our first pet, our favorite friend.
I'm thankful for the wonderful people at our vet office and at the vet hospital. They were amazing in the midst of all this . . . everything from getting us prompt appointments, explaining everything to us, and loving up my Tibbs, to helping me clean up an accident he had on the car ride, and being so compassionate at the end. In my everyday role, I'm the person that takes care of these things for our dental patients . . . it was truly humbling to be on the receiving end of such care.