19/10/2025
Boo is still alive, and we cancelled the euthanasia. What's happened in the last day and a half is unbelievable and I can't explain it. All I can do is share what we've witnessed.
We were devastated on Thursday evening. Boo's condition had declined so rapidly that we had to make a difficult decision. By Thursday afternoon, he was near death. His eyes were dull, his fur was falling out, and he barely ate, just leaning over his food bowl for a few bites. He was still having 6-10 daily bouts of diarrhea, which had been going on for over three weeks. He had also started urinating outside of his litter box. For 16 years, he had been with us constantly, but for the last week, he hid in a bedroom upstairs. He couldn't get comfortable, always having been on the sofas, but for over two weeks, he'd been on the floor, shifting to try and ease the pain from the cancer. And for the last two months, he had been completely deaf.
When we let him out for a last walk in the backyard on Thursday evening, he was stumbling and breathing heavily, grunting with each breath. It was heartbreaking. We'd tried everything to save him: tests, imaging, medication adjustments, but nothing helped. We knew it was time to let go. We called the vet and scheduled a home euthanasia for 2 pm on Friday.
At 11:30 on Thursday night, I put Wellie in his pen, as I do every night. I sat with Merlin on the sofa, and Boo was sleeping next to me. I didn't want the day to end. I fell asleep on the couch around midnight.
I woke up at 4 am, thinking I was dreaming. Wellie was in the living room, lying next to Boo, who was sleeping. I was so surprised that I sat up and asked, "Wellie, what are you doing here?" I know for a fact that his pen is escape-proof. He can't jump out, climb out, or lift it. The only way he could have gotten out was if I forgot to lock the door with the strong spring clips.
I went to my office and found his pen exactly as I had left it. The spring clips were locked in place. There was no sign of escape. His food and water bowls were half empty.
I went back to the living room, and Wellie was still with Boo. My wife came down and asked why he was out. I told her I didn't know and asked her to check the pen. She did, and we were both shocked. We both knew there was no way he could have gotten out. And yet, there he was, watching over his friend, who was getting worse.
We were puzzled, exhausted, and heartbroken, so I put Wellie back in his pen, picked up Boo, and brought him upstairs for a last night in bed. We held him between us and cried ourselves to sleep.
On Friday morning, we were filled with dread. We discussed the appointment. While we were talking, something strange happened. Boo came downstairs, went straight to his litter box, and had his first solid p**p in over three weeks. He went into the kitchen and waited for his breakfast, eating like he hadn't eaten in days. And he could hear again.
After he ate, he came into the living room and wanted to be on the couch. He laid down next to Treena and fell asleep. He was comfortable and content. We were amazed.
We watched him closely for the next few hours, and it was clear that we had to cancel the appointment. He was a new cat. He was love biting us, chewing on Treena's bracelets (an old habit), eating well, and purring. Boo was back, and he rallied just hours before his scheduled euthanasia. It was nothing short of a miracle.
Today, Boo is doing well. He gave us another solid p**p this morning and ate well. He had a better walk in the backyard last night, and he's happy. He's sleeping comfortably, and his energy is returning. We know he won't last forever, but we have more time, which is something we are so grateful for.
So is Wellie. He's constantly with Boo, kissing him, nuzzling him, and circling him. My appreciation for this animal is beyond words. His love for Boo is so strong. While the past 36 hours are unexplainable, we don't need an explanation. We've experienced pet losses before, but for the first time, we've seen a pet come back from the brink of death. We are blessed.
