Belvedere (aka Belly Cat) died this morning after declining for the past day. We don't know why he died; as he had been rejected by his mother, he might have had a defect incompatible with life. I don't know.
In his five days on this earth, he traveled to work and back with me and resided by my bed at night so I could feed him every two hours (my husband took the evening shift so I could pre-nap). He squeaked and rumbled and squirmed, a delightful little creature.
As the days passed, though, he squirmed less. Last night he quit urinating, and I knew he wouldn't make it to go to the vet the next day.
I was right. When I awoke this morning, he was limp and not moving. No heartbeat.
We did the best we could, buddy. I'm so sorry.
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