Squig went to sleep at 7:30 last night, and at 8:30 this morning, I had to wake him up to take him outside.  When he came back in, he went back to sleep.  He didn’t eat.  He is going to the vet tomorrow for an ultrasound to see if he has liver cancer, or if it is Cushing’s disease. 

Either way, it’s not good.  He doesn’t have many days left.  It makes me so sad...he is my best friend.

He sleeps on the other side of the bed at night.  For the last few weeks, when he woke up, he has come to my side, crawled under the covers and snuggled up to my side.  He wants comfort, he trusts me, and knows I will not let him suffer.

So far, he doesn’t seem to be in any pain, which is good.  But every day, he gets tireder and tireder.  He sleeps.  Yesterday when I asked him if he wanted to go in the car with me, he lifted his head and didn’t move.

This is hard.  He’s been my constant companion for over fourteen years.  He chose me when we brought him home and has been choosing me ever since.  “There is a time to live, and a time to die...” is what Ecclesiastes has to say.  When Squig goes, I will be the last leaf on the tree.  That’s what happens when you live as long as I have.  You have watched everyone go.  The next generation, my children are in their fifties and sixties and will have to take over.  I’m hanging on.  God has blessed me with hundreds and hundreds of family and friends.