Gizmo seems to be fading fast, and I’m facing the terrible decision. If only he could tell me how bad the pain is or what he wants… He looks up from my lap feebly and gazes into my eyes, seemingly imploring me to help him; but there’s nothing I can do, aside from that terrible final act of mercy. He ate a spoonful of tuna this morning and drank some water. He’s very unsteady now and has to move deliberately, but he went outside to explore a bit. I’m worried that he’ll fall down the stairs. Now he’s curled up next to me again. When he’s in my lap, sleeping, I can feel his little heart beating – far too quickly. I’ve been reading more about FIP and found a site devoted to curing the disease: Sock It To FIP (link removed for security reasons).