I really don't want to write this post.
But it's been very sad around our house.
Last Thursday, David took Tatumbell to the vet. He had been acting odd again, but this time, instead of panicking and worrying, I thought he would snap out of it again and be fine.
But I was wrong.
He was diagnosed with a mediastinal mass in his chest. The tumor was obstructing his heart and lungs so much you could barely see them on the x-rays.
So we brought him home, tried to make him as comfortable as possible, and prayed he was not in much pain.
But it was evident he was.
Monday evening, David was at work, and I was seriously contemplating sleeping on the floor with Tatumbell, just to be near him.
He came out from underneath our bed where he had been for the last three weeks, and I knew it wouldn't be much longer.
I picked him up and took him to the couch. He barely moved, and I was probably putting him in more pain just by touching him, but he suffered though it for me.
We laid together for over an hour. I just petted him and talked to him and cried. He purred, loudly sometimes.
And then he started breathing out of his mouth. He could barely breathe.
So we called the vet, at 11:30 Monday night, and made the very difficult decision to put him out of his misery.
By midnight, my sweet baby boy was gone.
I have been a basket case, and this post alone has taken me over 40 minutes to write.
I know it was the right decision, but goddamn it this is painful.
A few months ago, I wrote about him here and I'm really glad I did that.
I just can't go and look at it again. Not yet.
So goodbye, Bubba. You were a very sweet boy, and your mom and dad will miss you so much.