She'd had a horrible few days: she was sick but otherwise ok on Thursday morning, then collapsed early on Thursday evening with severe abdominal pains.
The vets had her on fluid drips, antibiotics and painkillers through Thursday night and most of Friday. She was sent home on Friday evening but started weakening again after a couple of hours.
We got her back to the 24/7 emergency vets and she spent another night on the drip and methadone. We got her back at 8am this morning, to drive her over to the usual vet for daycare.
She started going downhill again immediately. Within half an hour, when we reached the other vet, she was semi-conscious and too weak to stand. The test results that came back from the previous days didn't provide any clues.
After talking with the vet, it seemed to be the kindest option. I could have approved exploratory surgery, or asked them to keep her on the drips for another three days pending the next test results, but she seemed so weak, miserable and confused that it really didn't seem fair.
On Friday, when I got her home, she ignored her food and water and awkwardly climbed onto the sofa and into my lap. If there hadn't been a knock at the door a little later, I wouldn't have moved her or realised how weak she was. She'd probably just have slipped away before we got her back to a vet. Perhaps in some ways that would have been better.
The world feels colder tonight.