Dave had a great personality and was always quite the character. He pretty quickly got used to life with Maggie, our original feisty cat, and the big Lester and Sophie dogs.
He's been healthy and happy for the past 10 years, although not thrilled with being confined to the upstairs with Willie the cat for the past year and a half. Woody the hound dog still has not accepted the fact that cats are not toys, or food. Sophie comes up to visit every night though, and she helps keep the cat box nice and tidy...because Dave insists on a clean box.
Dave was in Cat Hospital for a week with bronchitis and a UTI. He didn't seem to be getting any better, but at least he had started eating again last Thursday, so I kidnapped him and brought him home. Even though I was pretty good at getting the meds in him twice a day, he still hadn't improved much by Monday, so I called the vet to make a follow-up appointment. Within a minute or 2 of hanging up the phone, Dave came out from his hiding place in the closet and could not walk. He was holding up his front paw and breathing hard. He had been fine just a few minutes earlier when I gave him his pills.
I took him to the vet on my way into work, and they called right away to say he had an embolism—very painful, not easily treated, and not great results with the treatment. The vet recommended putting him down, and hearing poor Dave crying made it clear that had to happen.
I am thankful that he showed me there was a problem before I went to work, otherwise he would have been in pain for another 5 hours with no one home to hear him cry. And I am also thankful that The Husband works closer to home so that he could meet me at the vet's to do the only thing that made sense.
It's never easy, but it was the right thing to do. We miss you Davey! And Will misses you even more than we do—if that's possible!