Grizzley is again at the vet. I stayed up until five this morning trying to decide if it’s time. I don’t want him to suffer needlessly but I don’t want to put him down if he’s still fighting and hasn’t given up.

As much as I watched him, I couldn’t tell. He kept going to his food bowls, a little too often, tried to eat, but couldn’t eat more than a bite. Yesterday he probably ate about a quarter of the amount he normally eats. He couldn’t stay lying in one position for more than 10 minutes at a time. He couldn’t make himself comfortable. He made sounds that resembles moaning or groaning sounds when he changed his position. He was alert. He started purring as soon as my hand touched him. He had hard time breathing. He was wobbly. I didn’t know what to do.

My friend, who I made the arrangement with, to drive me to the vet when I have to put Grizzley to sleep, called around 6:45 in the morning to see if he should come to drive me to the vet  or he should go to work. I still didn’t know. We decided he should go to work, and see later and he’d leave work early if it had to be done today.

After I took the dogs out, however, Grizzley was following me around in the kitchen, weak as he was and breathing laboriously, rubbing against my ankle and meowing and purring. He still had life in his eyes and he hasn’t given up yet. So I got ready for work, put him in the carrier, drove to the vet and dropped him off so that they could make him more comfortable and take the fluid out of his lungs again. And I’ll have another sleepless night with Grizzley.