Unfortunately we've lost the battle to save our cat, Bob. We always knew there was a risk he would deteriorate again when he came off the dialysis but he made such a good recovery after the last lot of treatment we had high hopes he would pull through. But he wasn't looking so good last weekend so we took him in for another blood test on Tuesday which confirmed that the treatment wasn't working. So it was just a case of deciding when to let him go.
Ian had a long chat with the vet on the phone yesterday about how and when to make these decisions (though we have plenty of experience already ... this is our fourth cat bereavement in three years). The vet is in the same situation himself: his own dog is seriously ill but so far he and his wife (who is also a vet) haven't been able to bring themselves to put him down. There's no fixed right or wrong answer but we wanted to keep Bob going for as long as he was happy. By this morning he had deteriorated to the point where we felt that line had been crossed.
We'd only had him for two years, having adopted him as a 10-year-old (though I have my suspicions he may have been older than that) because we're softies when it comes to the old and shabby cats that nobody else wants. Bob had been in the shelter for over two months and looked a bit of a mess, very overweight with a bald patch down his front where he'd had surgery. But he had such a lovely personality (and loud purr) we wanted to give him a chance, and he turned out to be a real delight to us. So at least he was spoiled rotten for the last two years of his life.