Anticipating my cat Otis’s death is devastating. I refuse to believe this is happening.

I know I did everything I could for him once I found out he was sick but I still wish I did more. I wish I could’ve noticed the signs earlier because maybe I could’ve got him treated quicker. He was a stray before we took him in and is the sweetest cat I’ve ever known. And he’s so young, barely 3 years old.

But this poor guy has a slew of health issues. FeLV, FIP for the second time that we are treating daily for, a malignant mast cell tumor that has been surgically removed from his ear that is struggling to heal, anemia and thyroid issues. The vet said it’s hard to say as far as a timeline goes, but to watch for signs that his quality of life is dwindling. He is still walking around, jumping on the bed, eating although not as much but it could be due to the medications. He’s a warrior and I cling to the small ray of hope he makes it through this.

I refuse to believe this is the end. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like to come home from work and he’s not there running up to me. My husband always said he would wait in the window for me and meow right before I would get home. I can’t imagine him not rolling around in his catnip in the kitchen while I cook dinner. Or him jumping on the bed and meowing directly in my ear in the mornings. I’ll even miss that.