My Whisper passed on Christmas Eve. Even though things had been looking so good, the diabetes came back and his kidneys were beginning to fail. Treating everything would have meant injecting fluid under his skin every other day, determining what his new insulin dose would be, and changing his diet. All this would mean constant trips to the vet and a great deal of blood work and needles and the risk of going into shock again. And the kidneys were going down no matter what -- it was just a matter of time, possibly only weeks. So I made one of the most horrible decisions of my life and decided that this was time. I held him while he went. The last several weeks have been pretty hard for me because Whisp and I had developed a bond over the last seventeen years that I've shared with few others in my life. His sister Pumpkin and I still cry ourselves to sleep most nights.