A couple weeks ago we thought Sam, our family cat of 15 years, was on his death bed. We noticed he wasn't eating (his favorite thing to do besides sleep). He wasn't really moving around either. Justin was home recovering from his surgery and Kenlee was off track. Justin decided that it was time to take him to the vet. Sam hates the vet, it gives him major anxiety. They gave him IV fluids and drew blood. The blood indicated that he had an extremely low red blood cell count and that he wasn't producing new good red blood cells. The vet assured us that he wasn't in pain and that he was just feeling tired and weak, so we chose not to put him down. Our little family was heartbroken. Kenlee was trying to nurse him back to health. She would give him water through a syringe, offering him food and carrying him to the litter box to see if he needed to go to the bathroom. For almost a week this went on, not knowing when he was going to take his last breath. Then one day, he started getting better. He started eating and moving around more. Now, he seems to be back to normal. It is the craziest thing. We know he won't be around for a whole lot longer, but for now, he's doing just fine. I do believe in the "9 lives" thing with cats and I think he's on #6 or so.
Kenlee made this little bed for him and he just slept there for hours.
Not at all interested in eating or drinking.