Heather rang our doorbell late this morning, to tell us that she'd had to put Bumble to sleep. She'd thought he was rallying--and had needed
cattitude's help to get an IV in him Friday night, because he wouldn't hold still--but he was suddenly much worse last night. It got bad enough that not only was he clearly dying, but very painfully, so she ended it for him as painlessly as possible.
She's angry at the shelter that pushed the other cat on her--she thinks that's where Bumble got whatever infection it was that killed him--and is going to take said other cat, who never comes out except for food, back to them. (They'd talked her out of doing this at least once, shortly after she took him.) She also thanked us, repeatedly, for helping and listening.
She's angry at the shelter that pushed the other cat on her--she thinks that's where Bumble got whatever infection it was that killed him--and is going to take said other cat, who never comes out except for food, back to them. (They'd talked her out of doing this at least once, shortly after she took him.) She also thanked us, repeatedly, for helping and listening.
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