On Thursday, I noticed that Oni was feeling under the weather. He wasn’t moving around or vocalizing much, but he still had a very healthy appetite, so I talked myself into thinking I was being a helicopter mom and decided to keep an eye on him.
Friday, there was more of the same. He’d seemed pretty perky Friday morning, but his activity tapered off until he was once again a piece of furniture with a thirst for KMR. I decided—fuck it, bring him in, better safe than sorry.
Saturday morning, he was really not doing well at all. In that he was doing pretty much exactly the same as he’d been the night before. Branden and I brought him in to the Humane Society vet, without a lot of hope, and with a lot of guilt, on my part.
His body temperature was 10° cooler than it should have been. (For perspective, the human body can only lose about 5° before we go into hypothermia.) He also weighed about half as much as he should have. We left him at the vet in an incubator with a fluid IV, and heavy hearts. The prognosis was not good.
He lived another six hours or so, but his fragile little body just couldn’t hold on. He died in the arms of a recovery technician. There was never a moment when he wasn’t loved.
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Goodbye, Oni, we hardly knew ye. I look forward to the time you re-download into new, stronger hardware.
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