Bean died this morning. When I chirped to wake him for his midnight feeding, I noticed he was no longer crawling on his belly. When I picked him up, I saw that the front paw where he'd had the cut had swelled up and looked like a sausage and he couldn't walk on it anymore.
I knew this was strictly a hospice situation, and I had prepared myself for his death. I had wanted to ensure that he'd pass away in a nice warm bed, but even so, seeing his little body there and knowing that I couldn't save him - despite my hardest efforts - still broke my heart.
