Today marks one week since I had to make the decision to put my 14 year old cat down. He was my buddy and I miss him so much. I don't know how to quell this sense of loss that is so overwhelming without him. He was always with me, always wanting to be with me, meeting me at the door when I'd come home. When we took him to the vet the first time, xrays showed either lung cancer or congestive heart failure (he had fluid in the lungs) and gave us medicine to clear it. Several days later another xray was taken, the fluid had partially dried up, with this the vet could see what was going on more clearly and said it's not cancer it's congestive heart failure. I was somewhat relieved. On the next visit, the xray showed it was cancer. So I had to switch direction from heart failure which could be controlled with meds and now, cancer, with a poor prognosis. He didn't eat for 2 weeks and was having real breathing problems. I knew it was time, but the decision was ripping me apart because I don't like playing God. I feel like he was taken from me too quickly.