|My sewing assistant|
|Dante, taking a nap on our old stained carpeting|
- In-n-Out french fries
- Carne asada
- Hoppy beers (I'm not making this up--if you left a pale ale or IPA attended, he'd try to steel a few licks)
- Pasta with meat sauce (okay, not so much a San Diego thing, but I always found his love of meat sauce odd)
|Dante enjoying a few licks of a Stone Pale Ale|
This wasn't sudden or out of the blue. We'd been treating him for hyperthyroidism and kidney disease for the past six months, and his kidney function had taken a turn for the worse back in late November. (We'd been giving him subcutaneous fluids to supplement his failing kidneys since then.) On Monday night, he suddenly lost interest in food and treats. On Wednesday, we took him to the vet to see if there was anything more that we could do for him, and she let us know that his time was nearing an end, and gave us some medication to make him more comfortable while we tried to come to grips with saying goodbye, but on Thursday morning, he let us know that it was time for us to let him go.
You know that you have a special cat when the staff at your vet's office comes in to say their final goodbyes while your vet is performing her final act of kindness towards him. Our house feels emptier without him, and I don't feel like our family will ever be quite the same. He will be missed.
Rest in peace, Dante (1997-2015).