My man-dog and I have a 2:30pm appointment at the Vet, to talk. Yep, that talk....the one nobody ever wants to have--the "where are we and what are our options" talk. This morning, his back legs were going out from under him. He's better now but for how long? And is he in pain? He whines A LOT but is that "hook worthy"? At fifteen, I know our options are nominal but I trust my Vet and know she'll hear me--either way.
Clearly, Wiggles (yeah...that's his name) isn't long for this world but how do you know when enough is enough? I don't want him to be in tooth grinding (more like gum smacking) pain and I also don't want to send him to "Dog Town" on the Express train.
Sometimes he has that limp eared, rheumy eyed "I'm ready" look, and then he goes outside later and gets his frisk on. Talk about conflicting messages... I guess when there's no more frisk to be gotten, it'll be time. Maybe he'll even tell me he's ready ...who knows? He tells me other stuff all the time. Like he wants to go out to doo-doo alley --not the backyard via his doggie door. He wants to go on the driveway side and he can't open the door. Got it. He's ready to eat. Got it. He wants up. Got it. He wants under my covers and when he gets it, he thanks me. The guy talks a lot.
I take this stewardship of him very seriously--probably more so than I would some people I know. He has been there for me no matter what so my sense of loyalty and duty is even more intense. He deserves the best. Now I just have to figure out what that is.
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