This one isn’t about vacation, but more about reality. Bad reality. I fear that Stanley is dying on me. We have another appointment back at the vet Thursday over my lunch hour, but I expect no good news.
His asshole roto-rooter just didn’t last long enough.
It makes my heart wince when I hear him grunting/crying in his litter box, trying to poop.
He’s done with food as of today. Can’t entice him with anything.
He looks like a rag-a-muffin.
My heart is heavy and fracturing.