Ah my poor love, I comfort myself with knowing that when we took him to the vet on the 2nd and then increased his daily fluids that we gave him another 9 really good happy days that he might not have had, the value of that is immense.
We're fairly certain today due to symptoms that the poor wee sod has bowel cancer and it's that finishing him off and became symptomatic at a late stage really without warning (although I will be wary of cabbage farts in future felines), and we're glad for his sake that we have an appointment booked for Monday.
He was perky and interested in life Thursday morning but he's now barely eating which is not like him at all. I wish we'd done the deed on Friday, but hindsight is always 20/20 as they say, and I wasn't 100% certain on Friday that he wouldn't perk up a bit (as the diagnosis was conjecture). He's deteriorated a lot over the last 24 hours.
My dad came up to say goodbye to him today and could tell he's had enough.
(We have gabapentin for pain relief and sedation btw and the stand-in vet that we saw said he'd be OK over the weekend, but he's gone downhill quicker than expected).
My heart is breaking, their lives are just too short compared to ours.