There is nothing anyone can do. He has liver cancer and now I feel like a heel for putting him through surgery that accomplished nothing but a diagnosis for me. The doctor doubted there was a blockage, the symptoms weren't right, but because that stupid rawhide donut disappeared from the basement shelf at Rocket's height and right afterward he started refusing food, I like an idiot, latched onto that one hope that he might be fixable. Even though he's almost 13 and it was more and more unlikely.
Now he's in pain on top of the lack of desire to eat and I probably robbed him of his last few good days. I just gave him his antibiotic to prevent infection at the incision and those upset his stomach. After I'm sure he's keeping them down I'll give him his pain pill. Sometime after that he'll get his appetite stimulant. Same drug given to human breast cancer patients.
He spent the night outside. First he collapsed in the patch of black-eyed Susans in the front yard when he went outside to pee. He refused to get back up. Hal said he's been sleeping outside, let him. I placed beds and water bowls outside. Hal checked on him a couple of times, I had to go to bed and try to sleep. Rocket ended up back in front of the garage, where he spent many of the last few days. He drank some water while I sat with him this morning. Luna is now laying near him in a hole she dug in the sand. I'll leave him alone for now, he's always been a loner, never enjoyed anyone hovering around him. He likes to know where you are, but wants his space. Even now. I'll give it to him, it's about all I can do for now. If he doesn't feel better in a couple days, show any sign of enjoyment of life, well.... most of my pet loving friends tell me I'll know when to do the right thing.