Our sweet little Neville Oliver.
At first we thought that he was throwing up his food because of the stress of a new environment. And then perhaps because of the food change. But then yesterday he took a turn for the worst. The vet gave us some antibiotics when I took him in, but also said that he didn't have more than a 30% chance of survival. It's not often that I cry, but I lost it. Right there in front of the doctor. And then the assistant. And then the receptionist. And now as I'm typing this post.
We called up the foster home that we had gotten him from, and they offered to try to help him out as well. Roger and Sierra made the hour drive with our little guy all bundled up, and they put him on an IV when he got there around 9pm. By midnight he had passed on.
Suffice it to say, we are all heartbroken.
We only had him a few days, but that time was full of much happiness and more joy than we could have ever imagined.
Thank you for being a part of our lives, little one, if only for a moment.
We will never forget you.