Dear Collective,
 
I have been a member of this forum for about 6 years.
 
This past 8 months or so have been awfully hard.
 
Our Sherlock was diagnosed with lymphoma, he had gotten to a state where
he couldn't walk any longer and was unable to make it to the litter box.
Everyday I had to wash him to clean his own mess out of his fur.  We made
the decision to help him on.  He kissed me as he fell asleep.  I cried
like a little kid.  He was only about 6 years old and our first little
one.  He is missed.
 
Shortly after that, our Gryphon--a deaf fella who we saved from certain
extinction at a pet store--was found having convulsions in his room late
one night.  We took him to the emergency vet, but by the time we arrived
he had passed on.  He was 2 years old.  He too is missed.
 
Now my wife and I are facing another hard hard decision.  Our P.B. who
we adopted about 6 years ago--the old man, we *think* he is older than
8--was diagnosed 3 or 4 months back with insulinoma.  We have him on
daily Pred, Depo-Medryl shots once a month, and testosterone right now.
He has lost his ability to use his back legs almost entirely.  The
testosterone is an attempt to eke a little strength out of them.  I wash
him daily to clean up the mess he makes of himself--he used to hit the
litter box 100%.  He no longer wants to be held.  He eats very little of
his kibble and seems to be living on Bob's Chicken Gravy--but he is now
losing interest in that.  It seems like his existance is no longer happy
or pleasant.  I am faced with the sad consideration that I may have to
help him along shortly and it makes me very sad.
 
Cherish the time you have with these little guys, because it is so
fleeting.
 
Best to all of you,
Matthew in CO missing Sherlock and Gryphon.
Torn up about P.B.
[Posted in FML issue 3860]