21 November 2018
He waited patiently while I heated up his steak so he could take his pill, but then he sniffed at it and walked away. He came back when he heard the can open, but he sat in the kitchen entryway, changed his mind, headed back to bed, and threw up halfway there. It was all stomach acid,.
Now, he ate well yesterday; everything I put in front of him, he inhaled. The Spouse Thingy grilled a fresh steak for him and he inhaled quite a bit (so did Buddah...and he's fine so I don't think that's Max's problem. The Spouse Thingy had 3 bites and he's fine, too.) But other than licking the surface of his night time snack--brought to him because I didn't think he would come into the kitchen--all he's had today is water.
He looks groggy and he's quiet. I haven't heard a single meow from him today. He sat on my lap for a while tonight, but only for half an hour or so, and didn't stay to watch the episode of Doctor Who we recorded on Sunday. Usually when he sits on my lap, he stays for as long as I'll let him; his getting off is not typical.
I'm hoping it's just a bad day. He's old, he's allowed. But this looks too much like it did when he was so sick just before he turned 4, but this time he doesn't have the reserves to handle not eating for a week.
I know what's coming sooner rather than later, and I'm bracing myself for it. I also think it's only fair to warn people that, even if this is just a bad day, that he's on a definite decline.
And please, no "Oh Max will live until he's 20. Max is tough, a survivor." I don't want him to live that long if he's miserable. And he's 17.5, if he's ready to rest, he's earned that right.
I'll be broken as hell, but... just fair warning.
And I really, really hope he proves me wrong.