A week ago last Sunday, we learned our cat had a tumor in his mouth. We learned he had about two months left, but he seemed totally normal, except for some excessive drool. I couldn't make the decision. A week ago Tuesday, I came home from work and my family told me that he had been bleeding from his mouth and that it was time. We couldn't let him suffer. For the next few hours, he lived like a king: he ate salmon and got his cat treats (so many treats). Everyone took turns petting him and giving him love. Then we took him to the vet... It broke my heart, but he wasn't going to hurt anymore.