Was last night. His final gift will arrive for him on Thursday early evening, in the form of the compassionate Dr. Carpenter and a vet tech, making a house call.
Glenn and I have been giving Even extra subcutaneous fluids every other day or so, and he seems to perk up a bit after them. However, based on his visit yesterday, his modest weight gain seems to be all water. His numerous health problems, at this point, are all exacerbated by the underlying FIV, which is making it impossible for him to bounce back. Even so, his heart murmur problem is minor, at this point, in comparison to his serious anorexia, extreme anemia, and racing heartbeat.
So last night dinner was grilled chicken for him, which he ate with enthusiasm. And last night he got to sleep with us on top of the electric blanket, which seemed to make him happier and more comfortable.
He may slip away from us before Thursday. But we're hoping if he departs us sooner, that it will be in his sleep and while comfortably lying on the electric blanket.
It's been hard for me to stop the tears that just sometimes seem to well up on their own. But he'll no longer feel discomfort at all soon, and that is the only final, heartbreaking gift I can offer him.
I keep trying to focus on the good times we've shared, and on how much he still seems to appreciate being scritched and sitting in my lap...