He was taken too soon. I suddenly lost my beloved little friend three weeks ago. I didn't even know he was sick. Life has been chaotic...not surprising with a 1 year old and 3 year old around. Rooms have had to be gated off and doors shut and so there wasn't as much Wrigley time as there used to be. He was always in the thick of things....although, I wasn't ever sure he really enjoyed it. He had an anxious personality but amazingly took well to having the kids around. He always would stay just out of reach of their little grabbing hands. He was okay with them touching and petting him but he always needed a way out. He was always a mama's boy...and I loved him for that. He was the affectionate one and always had to be on your lap.
He was a bit withdrawn on Tuesday but still never missed a meal. I heard him get up around 5 am Wednesday morning and head out into the kitchen. Nathan woke me up at 7:15 asking for help keeping Viv out of the accident that Wrigley had left in the kitchen while he cleaned it up. We went about our crazy morning getting everyone ready to head out the door. Wrigley never came out for breakfast. I figured he was hiding cause he'd had an accident in the kitchen...it was very unlike him to miss breakfast. I called him a few times...nothing. Nathan and I discussed that I'd take him to the clinic so we could run some tests on him (he'd had high liver values the last time he'd had bloodwork...which we chalked up to probably the onset of Cushing's). I went to grab him when I left the house to take Rowan to PDO (I was afraid I'd forget him) around 9:15 and he was dead underneath my side of the bed (his fave place to sleep). I was shocked and heartbroken. I didn't even know he was sick...how could I have missed it? Now I know it was hemangiosarcoma....the same thing that took Ruby but in a different way. It must have spread like wildfire in him. I hope he went peacefully and without any pain. I didn't get to be there when Ruby died and I so wanted to have that moment with Wrigley and hold him while we said goodbye. But I guess it wasn't meant to be. I miss him everyday. I still hear him...shake, sniff, drink, and sigh. He was only 9.
Love you Wrigglepot.
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