Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Happy Spring! err...Fall!

The weather here has been crazy.  We put the air conditioning on over the weekend because it was 28 degrees.  Today, we put the furnace back on because the high was 10 degrees.  WTH?

Shorts, pants, flipflops, jackets. UGH!

Looking forward to the normalcy of summer. Spring is too bi-polar for me!

In other news, Boy Oneder heads up to Wasaga Beach for a four day party with his friends on Friday.  Although it is easier this time than prom cottage last year, it's still scary to let your kid go away, unattended for four days.  He will be 19 in June...you'd think I would accept the fact that he is an adult now...yeah, not so much.

On a sad note, Rosie won't be with us for much longer.  She turned 14 on April 26th and on the 29th, we took her and Dudley to the vet for their annual appointment.  The vet decided that she didn't need to be put through the trauma of bloodwork.  He examined her briefly and told us she was in pain...she has arthritis in her back.  I told him about her incontinence and the fact that she pretty much sleeps all the time.  I told him she drinks like a racehorse as well.  Her liver has been deteriorating for a couple of years now and we have suspected Cushings Disease all along, but the symptoms now have really shown themselves...excessive thirst, pot belly, cysts all over her body, skin infection on her inner thighs, incontinence.  She is also pretty much blind and we think she is going deaf as well.  And so, I asked the vet that awful question..."If you had to wager a bet, how long do you think she has left?"  His response was like a punch to the stomach, "Six months."  I started to cry.  I felt physically sick.  I thought he'd say a year.   I told him that my worst fear (and that of Middleman) was that she would be found dead one morning.  He said that rarely happens and that, probably, the time would come for us to put her down before died at home.  He said the three signs that she is on her way out are: loss of appetite, lack of excitement when I come home and incontinence.  So far, all she has is incontinence.  And so, I am torn.  She is lying in her bed right now, breathing loudly.  Her body is covered in horrible cysts that weep at the slightest touch and so she looks like a stray because bathing opens them all up.  But she wags her tail so hard her whole body wags when I haven't seen her for an hour or more and she eats like a champ.  The vet said to give her a 1/4 of a Tylenol twice a day and bring her back in a month.  The Tylenol seems to be making a bit of a difference, as she is up and about a little more, but she pooped in my van on the weekend. And she peed at Grandma's house.

So, I am really struggling with when to make the decision to end her life.  She may stay like this for a couple of years and right this second, I think she is OK.  But, I don't want her to get to the point that she is in pain.  I will live with guilt if I think that I am jumping the gun and so I have been watching her like a hawk since the appointment.  I hate this.  She is such a wonderful dog, but she hasn't been on our laps for many months.  She can't jump up and I am the only person who can pick her up without being snapped at.  Ugh.  I wish she could talk. I wish she could tell me, "It's time.  Please let me go."  But she can't.  So, I will continue to watch her and pray that when the time is right, either Rosie or God will let me know.  I hate this so much.


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