Boo was put down yesterday.

He's just never responded well (often not at all) to his insulinoma treatment. Given his poor history with prednisone, I refused to put him back on that, and he was going downhill fast. I did try the pred again for a couple of days, but it didn't make any difference and I guess I should say I refused to keep with it or increase the dose after what it did to him before. I think he had some brain damage from such prolonged and extreme hypoglycemia - even when he was doing relatively well, he had a hard time keeping his feet, or aiming his head to lick at treats - and the past couple of days he just had no good times at all. He would fling himself a few steps and then fall over, often looked crazed and frantic. We would get him to eat, and it changed nothing. He'd been having good times and bad spells every day, then he had a really good day Wednesday, and then - flop. He came up to me and looked like he wa sbegging me for help. Sometimes when he crashed before I'd find him under my usual chair, like he was looking for me, hoping I could help him.

I gave him a Reese's cup to eat while we talked to the vet, so he went out happy, anyway.

David was having a rough time with it all at the vet's, and the way he reacted to discussion about bringing the body home for the other fuzzems to see, it was clear that he was the one who really couldn't handle it (he said he thought it would upset Joey too much), so we didn't, and so poor widow Bug has been looking for her Boo. I don't know if I should have put my foot down about bringing him home; David was getting pretty shaky. Poor Bug. I miss my Boo, too, but at least I know.