I called Ernie's vet yesterday morning, even though Walker and I had agreed to let nature run it's course. She still isn't eating much, and I couldn't believe she isn't suffering. I decided that I've had Ernie for almost 23 years but I've only had Walker for eight. Ernie has seniority. Besides, my mom taught me at a young age that it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. So I did.
The vet agreed that bringing Ernie into the clinic would cause her too much stress, so she made up a syringe full of antibiotics and left it for us at the front desk. Walker picked it up and I administered it as soon as he got home. It's basically a last ditch effort to keep Ernie comfortable while we wait for her time to go. The vet said it will take a day or two to work. If she isn't perked up and eating by then, she won't ever be. I'll be sticking close to home again this weekend, taking care of my girl.
The good news is, apparently at this stage it's likely Ernie isn't feeling much pain. The kidney failure causes her thinking to get fuzzy, so she doesn't likely realize she's sick. Mostly she sleeps. It's not much, but it's comforting.