This is the last picture I took of the Rogue. He got 3 years old. I had found him under the hood of my car when he was a 4 week old kitten.
He was sick for the last 3 weeks with various vets trying to find out what was wrong and bets ranging from autoimmune diseases to a very bad case of herpes. Bloodwork was moderate anemia at first, which got better 3 days ago when more blood was taken. X-rays all fine. He was scheduled for ultrasound on the day after tomorrow that we will never go to.
This morning his breathing got worse – all of a sudden, it sounded like water in his lungs. I grabbed him and rushed to the emergency vet. Couldn’t get him into his carrier, so I had him on the seat next to me and then in my lap, where he died shortly before we got there.
Emergency vet told me his heart had given out. He was very kind and told me even should they have been able to save him, he would only have had a couple more months.
I’m still beating myself up for not getting there a few minutes sooner.
I’m beating myself up in general. I did not get much sleep or food the last week when I tried to keep him alive and failed, and now I don’t want any.
He was the heart and soul of this home. He is leaving behind Gerinimo, his bonded best friend for the past half year, who is running around calling for him, his adoptive brothers Oberon (who used to groom him), Grisou (who he grew up with and snuggle), elder sister Sassy Josephine (who he shared my bed with) and me.
I still have cats, but this was a very special one.
Does anyone have any advice on how to deal with this?
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