When Twig was about 1 and a half, I was told he was likely not going to make it. He was having seizures around the clock, not eating or drinking. He had pancreatitis. He pulled through after two weeks. I had been working at a vet clinic at the time so I was able to bring him in with me every day so he can be watched and get fluid. I hardly slept those two weeks. Even with a painful condition, he still put up a fight at the vets. He hated the doctor and tried to attack him, got me instead.
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There are three lines, one faded a bit. I remember the vet panicking over it because I had blood running down my arm and dripping on the table. Prior to this, he told me to drop him so he didn't get me and I refused. I would never drop a sick animal, especially not my own. Almost 13 years later, I still have the scars and I cherish them now.
He was such a stubborn, beautiful cat. I know it hurts really bad now but I will feel better as time goes. It just doesn't feel like it right now.