making the right choices

She struggled yesterday.


We went for a big walk on Friday. I was so pleased to see her come along of her own volition. But yesterday she chose to just sit around the house and let us do our thing.

I had to go to a family function yesterday, so came back a few hours later than usual to give her her afternoon meds. I think the combination of the late meds and the big walk from the day before helped exacerbate everything, and that evening she started breathing super heavy.

It was very hard to watch her struggle to breathe. It made me regret not saying goodbye on Friday. But then I reminded myself that she had been improving since Thursday afternoon, and she had wanted to come with us.

I was relieved to see the breathing is easier today, but when I put my hand on her, I can feel her heartbeat, and it’s irregular. We spent today sitting side by side as I did my work and she chilled out beside me.

She also made lots of effort to roll onto her back so I could give her tummy scratches.

I think seeing her suffer like that last night with big heaving shuddering breaths really rattled wolfieboy. I certainly felt guilty. Wolfieboy has suggested we make the appointment tomorrow.

I don’t really want to, to be honest. When she looks well. So you think to yourself, hey, she wants to stay with us…

She’s eating all her food. She’s got the pills down pat. Her body’s adjusted to the steroids and she’s stopped peeing in the loo.

So after all that, why should I let her go away?

Because at the end of the day she’s slowly going away in front of our eyes. Her tummy feels bloated. There are lumps and bumps along her rib cage that shouldn’t be there. That third eye lid is still half closed. She has bruising along her shin - you can see it through the skin from where they shaved it for the IV drip. She flops down on the ground with a lot less grace. She no longer runs around, bounding through the bushes and egging Freddy on for a run. She lies beside you and you can hear her breathing in short breaths. Her heartbeat is irregular.

It can’t be fun. She doesn’t know to ask for help. She just knows that she’s not well.

Dinner is currently being offered, and she happily trots off to the door. Whereas last week before the meds kicked in she would just lie there forlornly looking at us. And when you offered her food she would just half heartedly sniff and then look at us forlornly.

It’s different when they eat. Why would you want to say goodbye if she’s eating? A key sign that they’re wanting to hang around. You don’t want to die if you’re eating, right?

But today she seems so much better. Just resting. Recuperating.

It is such a hard decision to say goodbye.

We will see what the Vet says tomorrow. I don’t want to rush it. At the same time, I don’t want to make the wrong decision either. Wolfieboy keeps reminding me that this is now for our benefit, not hers. It’s easy to say, but not so easy to process. And seeing what last night was like, is a harsh reminder.