The bloods an urine didn't show anything, but he was very poorly.
Our usual Vet was out today (he told us yesterday that he wouldn't be here). I rang at 9 and the Vet in charge of Wash told us that he had improved a little and was sitting uphe outlined what the plan for today was, and we would speak to her at lunchtime for an update.
She phoned about half an hour later to say that Wash's pupils weren't dilating in response to light, which indicated a brain injury. She explained the options, which were few. We ruled out sending him to a Neurologist as we didn't want to put him through even more stuff, when the outcome was likely to be that nothing could be done. We we agreed that we would come in at 5 to decide what to do.
I had an appointment on behalf of ny brother at 2, and I was on my way to him just before 1 when the Vet called. I pulled over to take the call, as it could only be bad news.
Washy had deteriorated, and she wanted us to come in sooner. Almost now ish.
I phoned to cancel the appointment, messaged my brother (his phone was engaged), phoned my husband, and drove home.
We went straight to the Vets to see Wash. He barely registered we were there, apart from when we scratched his chin. I told him all the usual thing: how loved he was, who loved him, how lucky we were to have had him in our life. This time I added that he was going to have one more injection, and he would be pain free.
I had wanted him to die at home. He hated the Vets so much. But we couldn't put hi through bringing him home.
We consented. We said goodbye. DH held Washy while the Vet injected through his tube; I held DH.
Later, I messaged my other, cat loving, brother. I did't know what to write. In the end, I sent just 3 words.
"Washy died today."
