Muta died last night right after Julia left for the movies. I was glad that she wasn’t home. It wasn’t a bad death but it happened right in front of me. I don’t know how Julia would have handled it.
Muta hadn’t eat at all yesterday. In the last week, even on appetite enhancers, anti-nausea meds and steroids, his eating has been sporadic and he has thrown up nearly everything I’ve given him. There was nothing more the vet could do for him. He had slept on my bed just three nights ago, jumping up as always. The last two days, he stayed mostly in the bathroom on the rug which he liked and under the kitchen table.
Julia left for the movies around 5:20; I was cutting tomatoes to roast. Muta threw up under the kitchen table. He laid back down and some of his fur was in the vomit although by this point, vomit was mostly a clear liquid. I wanted to get the tomatoes in the oven and so didn’t immediately clean up the floor. A few minutes later, Muta got up and walked to the back door. He meowed very loudly. He usually asked to go outside but not in this voice which had a strident sound. Since he has been sick, I’ve kept him inside but during this last week, I had been letting him out. Sometimes he went into the backyard, but mostly he kept to the porch, finding a bit of sun and stretching out.

