Round Two of Tree Care

Well, it's not a cold. 

I went home to check on my Bentley at lunch, delicious gravy-filled wet food in hand to tempt him with, and found him right where I'd left him, and with evidence of vomit on my rug.

I tried to get him to eat, putting food on my finger and lifting it to his mouth, and he just made the saddest little whimpering sounds. Translation: "Mama, I don't feel good."

Or maybe: "Please take me to the bad place. I want the drugs."

"Okay, baby. It's vet time," I replied.

It's probably the pancreatitis again, though it's not for sure. More tests will come back tomorrow, and I will be taking him back to the vet, and probably staying home from work to keep an eye on him if he doesn't start eating or improve just a little bit. He's in so much pain, you guys. Sad, pathetic little whimpers, even doped up as he is.

I...I feel.

I HAVE FEELINGS.

I can only express my emotions in gifs.