Today was not the vet visit we wanted. They didn't even check Casey's heart. The vet looked at how he was standing and walking, and heard how he's been acting lately, and he concluded it was neurological. That means his cancer has metastasized into his brain, and there's nothing left to do. It would be a month at most of watching a painful decline. So I've made the decision that I'll help him to the Bridge on Friday, after two days of the most spoiling I can manage.
Devastated is too mild a word. I can't handle this.