Yesterday Rasputin (age 19) walked all around the house, into every room, even went down the basement twice despite his bad arthritis, and howled repeatedly. It was like he was saying goodbye to the other cats, the humans, and to the house. Finally, late in the evening he stopped howling and found a new place to lie down under my grandmother's rocker, and next to the heat register. Periodically, he would walk into the kitchen to drink water out of his bowl or faithfully (!!!) use the litter box. He hadn't eaten anything all day, but threw up white foam at least three times. When I went to bed at 2 a.m., I didn't expect to see him alive today.
Well, he's still alive and has been eating, is still under my grandmother's rocker most of the time, but no longer howls. I plan to make tuna salad for lunch and squeeze out the tuna water for him (his most favorite thing in the world next to Arby's beef). Maybe I'll also squeeze out a fish oil capsule. Wonder if he'll lick up the oil.