8 degrees

I am more accustomed to the idea of losing Tommy today. I just wish there was a way to know if he was comfortable.

He didn’t seem to be in distress when I got home last night. Rather he was in a semi-conscious state—his eyes half-open, his breathing deep and slow, and generally unresponsive, though he swallowed a few dropper-fulls of water. He looked a lot like a dying cat. I reassured Denny that in such a stupor like that, he wasn't suffering, just drifting in a semi-coma state. I moved him to some bedding in a quiet corner and covered him loosely with an old shirt to keep him warm. Though on the heated slab, we needn't fear drafts.

I was genuinely surprised that he didn’t die during the night.

By early this morning, when Denny looked in on him before leaving, he lifted his head.

I checked on his every twenty minutes or so this morning. By mid-morning, he was acting much as he did yesterday: turning his head to the left and with slight tremors in his legs. I gave him a tiny bit more Valium, which quieted the seizure-type activity, and some sub-Q fluids to keep him hydrated. It finally occured to me that giving sub-Q fluids would be smarter than trying to feed him water by the dropper-full. He took a little Nutri-Cal mixed with honey and the juice from a can of Friskies but didn't really seem hungry.

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