Holly had a couple really good days last weekend, but she had a serious coughing fit last Sunday night, and by Monday, her breathing had gotten pretty bad. On Tuesday, the vet drained some fluid from her chest, and her breathing got a little better — but it still wasn’t normal, and apparently her tumors had grown even more since the previous week. The vet increased her diuretic prescription (to help get rid of some of the fluid) but said that the remaining breathing problems were mostly caused by the solid masses, not by fluids.
I took most of the week off work. On Wednesday night, she seemed to rally. She’d been lying beside me on the couch, and then she did something that she’d done a thousand times before. She went into the bedroom, found Thunder lying on the bed, and meowed loudly. I came in and sat on the bed; Holly jumped up and walked over to Thunder, who proceeded to groom her thoroughly while she purred. It was the most normal moment we’d had since she’d gotten sick. Then she slept all night in her usual spot, curled up next to me.
On Thursday, she just seemed really exhausted. She did eat a couple times, but she spent most of the day either on my lap or right next to me, sleeping or just focusing on breathing. Thursday night, I had a vet come to the house and euthanize her.
I miss Holly’s purr, and I miss seeing her and Thunder play together. Thunder was pretty depressed that first night, but he seems to be doing okay and possibly even enjoying the extra attention I’m giving him. Every so often, though, he’ll go to a chair she spent a lot of her time on or to one of the cave-like cat beds I bought for her when she was sick and just sniff it thoroughly. They weren’t inseparable, but they were friends, and he’d lived with her since he was ten weeks old.