It's always tough to lose a close pet, but it's even worse when you know it's going to happen and the call is on you. That was Marvin's situation. What we thought last September was an intestinal disease turned out to be adrenal glad cancer. The past week showed a serious decline in the little guy. He was listless, constantly sleeping, and his back legs were slowly giving out on him.
Marvin's stress level sent him into seizures whenever we gave him any type of medicine, so there was nothing really left to do. This morning we took him in and the vet confirmed he had a quarter-sized tumor. It hit fast. At five and with his condition, surgery wasn't an option either. He had only a few days left at best, and after seeing him lay and stare blankly at me last night (almost like he was trying to tell me what needed to be done), we made that inevitable call this morning.
Marvin was five, a rescue from someone who decided not keep him after an argument with his girlfriend. His love for sock theft (which we'll likely still be finding around the house for the next few years), dangling objects, plastic bags, and buckets will not be forgotten.
