I awoke about 6 this morning and found she had vomited all over the seat of her favorite chair. Half of it was red blood. I found her under a low cabinet. I thought it would be just her body, but she was still alive. I lay on the floor, rested my hand on her, and told her I was there and that I loved her. Twice she let out yowls that sounded like she was in great pain. Over the next 2 hours, she worked herself out from under the cabinet to a space where I could reach her.
I called the vet when they opened at 8 and took her in. The vet found her to be dehydrated, anemic, in renal failure, pale, and weak, besides having her GI tract inflamed. As always, I went to be with her as she left. I told her about the Bridge, then recited the first and last stanzas of “Night, Night Furball” and the last stanza of “Pawprints.” They had some trouble finding a vein because she was dehydrated. I kept telling her to watch for the colors. She meowed when she left.
Tomorrow is the last day for the clinic. I told the vet and the tech that this was one heck of a thing to be the last thing we did.