fenshae
Well-Known Member
Two weeks ago, Ripper's hind end started to go out. First, he just didn't have full range of motion; then, he started curling his back feet. He would still dutifully stash all of his food and shred newspaper for bedding like there was no tomorrow, and seemed happily content to drag himself about. I put him on antibiotics for a URI that would keep him up wheezing at night. This morning, he attacked his syringe of baytril with gusto and happily took every last drop.
Tonight, I peeked in to check on him and he was on his side outside of his nest box, which was quite odd -- Ripper loves boxes and I never see him sleep outside of one. When I reached in to take him, he was unresisting and I noticed his front feet were clubbed. He didn't want to take some pudding from my fingertip, and that's when I knew -- never, in all his years, has Ripper *ever* turned down food. He's lying next to me on his blanket now, on his side, breathing but semi-conscious; his eyes don't close when I move my finger over them and occasionally he attempts to thrash, moving in odd, jerky spasms, or else has "hiccups".
If, somehow, he makes it to morning, I'll take him in for Dr. Cook to have him PTS; there aren't any emergency vets in town I trust to do it. But I suspicion it'll be in the next few hours.... :sad3:
Edit:
He's gone. I put him back in his cage to stay with Sweeney in the end, because I think he would have liked that. Sweeney stayed close by. I checked in a few times; this last time, Sweeney came to the bars and looked at me with such an expression of sweet confusion that I knew. It must have just happened; Ripper was still warm.
Play hard at the bridge, big guy. Sweeney's gonna miss you big time.
Tonight, I peeked in to check on him and he was on his side outside of his nest box, which was quite odd -- Ripper loves boxes and I never see him sleep outside of one. When I reached in to take him, he was unresisting and I noticed his front feet were clubbed. He didn't want to take some pudding from my fingertip, and that's when I knew -- never, in all his years, has Ripper *ever* turned down food. He's lying next to me on his blanket now, on his side, breathing but semi-conscious; his eyes don't close when I move my finger over them and occasionally he attempts to thrash, moving in odd, jerky spasms, or else has "hiccups".
If, somehow, he makes it to morning, I'll take him in for Dr. Cook to have him PTS; there aren't any emergency vets in town I trust to do it. But I suspicion it'll be in the next few hours.... :sad3:
Edit:
He's gone. I put him back in his cage to stay with Sweeney in the end, because I think he would have liked that. Sweeney stayed close by. I checked in a few times; this last time, Sweeney came to the bars and looked at me with such an expression of sweet confusion that I knew. It must have just happened; Ripper was still warm.
Play hard at the bridge, big guy. Sweeney's gonna miss you big time.