Today, Scott and I made the difficult but necessary decision to let Hank go. At age 17, he was in a lot of arthritis pain, had lost half his weight, had a painful abscess on his belly, and could barely get around. We knew we had to do it. Today, we did it.
At the vet's office, after they took his weight, he just lay down on the scale. The assistant said, "He can stay there, since he seems so comfortable on there," and we couldn't resist snapping a picture. What a pretty little stripy boy.
Not long afterwards, we were there with him as he slipped painlessly away. Not a dry eye in the room, and that includes the vet and the assistant.
We made absolutely the right decision - really the only decision. That makes it easier. He's not in pain any more, and we have 17 years of happy memories to replay in our minds.
This is his last photo, and I plan on digging through old pictures and posting some of his ridiculous kitten pictures from 1991, when he arrived in our lives as a tiny, mischievous fluff-ball.
We're sad. Really, really sad. We will miss him desperately. But we're relieved. We did it for him, and he's out of pain.
Silly little funny Hank!
I will never forget him.