Around 8 o’clock, I took him out of his cage, and mom held him while I cleaned his bottom. I also noticed that his chest was wet with drool. His teeth appeared to be overgrown, but I didn’t want to take care of that right away, for fear of stressing him too much.

After he was clean, I sat down on the couch and laid him on my chest. He stayed there for over an hour, cuddled in warmly under my hand, and fast asleep.

At 9:30, he started to stir a little, and so mom and I took the opportunity to get a better look at his teeth. I had to weigh the potential stress it would cause him against the fact that he could very well starve to death if this was left untreated.

Turns out I didn’t have much of a choice to make.

He had another stroke, in my hands. It was very fast. As he was breathing his last, I held him, and stroked him, and told him it was okay. He could go. I leaned over, kissed him, and whispered into his ear, You’ve been a wonderful boy. You can leave now, it’s alright. And he was gone.

There’s nothing I would have done differently. No better way I could have imagined for him to spend his last night. And yet…it hurts so much.