My heart was broken on Friday when David and I took Tony to the vet and said goodbye.

He hadn't seemed right the past few weeks and his fur had begun to look dull and feel yucky so I thought we ought to take him in. We had both taken the day off work because we were heading to Myrtle Beach for the weekend. David was running in the half marathon on Saturday. David left about 7:30 and I continued on my merry, time-wasting way. David came back home a little while later and said that the vet said that Tony was very dehydrated and he wanted to run some tests on him. That would take about an hour. The vet called and said that after looking at Tony a little more closely, his skin was jaundiced and his fur had begun to take on a yellow-ish tint down near the skin. That pointed to a liver problem. Our options were to take him to a specialist in Charlotte which could run in the thousands or let the vet do some more tests and wait for him to call again. After a bit, David decided to just go back to the vet's office and discuss what we should do. I didn't go. David called me later and said that he thought our best option was to put him to sleep. David told me not to come so I got off the phone and talked to Barb for a bit (she and Rege went to the beach with us). I decided that I was going to go over to the vet's office. I called David to tell him and he said to just come on back when I got there.
When I got there, David was sitting in an exam room, holding Tony, who was purring as loudly as I'd ever heard him. I started to cry as soon as I got there. The vet brought me a chair and told us to take as long as we needed. I took Tony from David and just held him and stroked his soft, soft fur. He purred and purred. I told Tony to find Fred when he got to heaven so they could talk about how annoying Louie is and how gross Cousy is. After we had hugged him and said our goodbyes and David had taken off his collar, we got the vet. He came in and explained exactly what he was going to do. Tony already had an IV in his leg from blood being taken. He first injected a sedative that worked almost instantaneously. Tony got limp and laid on the table. The vet then injected the medication to stop his heart. We stood there with our hands petting his back and head and felt him leave. The vet listened with his stethoscope and said, "There's no heartbeat." The vet was so very kind and understanding and let us take our time. The vet then gathered up Tony who was so limp and floppy like a rag doll. We got the cat carrier, wiped our eyes and left. It was horrible, but very peaceful at the same time.
I wonder if Louie wonders where his brother is and why he isn't coming back. I don't think you can explain stuff like that to a cat. I just feel so sad. I cried when we got home from the beach this afternoon and Tony wasn't there to meet us and run frantically to the bathroom like he was starving because there wasn't enough food in the dish. I cried because the vet had sent us a single red rose and a sympathy card. I cried because we only have 1 cat now. I'm crying because I miss my sweet Tony.