This is our sweet baby Ghost. We adopted her a year ago, mostly to keep our other playful cat busy, since his sister no longer plays with him. All was well until just a couple weeks ago. She didn't eat, didn't play anymore. Her little chirps of greeting and weird grunting noises as she scampered off down the hall ceased to be a thing. Instead she moped around, spending all of her time sleeping. Our other cats seemed to take a notice to her declining state and they also stopped eating as much, our Tux stopped being energetic and playful and his sister spent most of her time hiding. That was enough for us, we took Ghost into the vet to be checked out and after several tests and exploring other possibilities, there only remained one diagnosis that made sense. She had dry FIP. My fiance and I watched as our fur baby declined, getting worse every single day, and then the worst happened. She couldn't even balance herself she got so weak from not eating or drinking. Yesterday, about 12:20 pm, our beloved baby was put to sleep.
I never liked cats before, but my fiance insisted on giving them a try over a dog. I immediately fell in love with them, and never thought I'd be crying my eyes out over a cat. I'm beside myself with grief over losing her, but now that she's gone, I'm at least a little happy to say my other two have responded well. They've gotten more active and aren't stressed out. I think they knew that their younger sister (not biological, by the way) was dying, and they shut down themselves for awhile.
It hurts to know she's gone, but I know she's in a better place, playing with all of the other fur babies before her who have passed on.
Mommy misses you, Ghost. Someday, I hope to see you again soon.