I'm just going to do this post quickly because I am crying buckets. I took Freddie to the vet today because he had stopped eating and was very lethargic. He had his Christmas chicken dinner on Friday and Saturday, but then he didn't eat much more after that. The vet said he had a big lump in his stomach, he took a sample of fluid from him, the vet said it doesn't look good. He started to tell me about what could be done, xray, scan, then cutting him open. It seemed such a lot to put a cat through, with no guarantee that the outcome would give him a good quality of life. He mentioned the words cancer and tumour and I realised what we had to do. I held Freddie while he went to sleep.
My poor little Freddie, he turned up on my doorstep as a stray in a terrible mess, about seven years ago. A fiesty little fella, he ruled the roost and had us all trembling in our boots. Goodbye my little friend, sleep tight.