I found this draft when I went to blog about my crazy year and the life that is bariatric living. It was typed in August and looks like I never finished. It still stirs up all the emotions that remain just under the surface. I'm going to go ahead and publish just as it is....unfinished.
One week ago today I had to make one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make. I have cried so many tears that I wonder how I'm not dehydrated. There wasn't an hour on Monday that wasn't filled with tears. From the time I realized the inevitable to the time I finally fell asleep, tears stayed on the corners of my eyes. Tuesday I had to excuse myself several times from work to run outside. Wednesday was just more of the same. I have had so many sweet friends offer condolences and prayers. Many have walked this path and know how hard this is to travel.
I had known for over a year the time was coming. My girl would get sick and better all within a matter of days. Five years ago she began showing signs of collapsing trachea. This is a common Pomeranian trait and we decided we lived with a goose. She would wake us in the middle of the night sounding as if a flock of Canadas were coming in for a landing. Before long she seemed tired and miserable. We started her on prednisone and things started looking up. She was still playing ball and enjoying running and playing with Naila.
Given the risks the predisone it was worth it for her to be able to breathe and rest. Every time I weaned her within two weeks she was honking again and would have to return to her meds. Three months later we were noticing her expressions were different. She always spoke with her eyes. She was always attentive and cocked her head just so as you knew she understood every word you spoke to her. It was different now. It was like she looked past you. It was then I noticed she was having difficulty seeing. She was starting to leave puddles in the floor at night. She was wetting the bed and was not acting like my good dog that I had had for ten years.
It was at this time we took her to the vet. She was diagnosed as diabetic and was developing cataracts. I've always enjoyed sticking people for blood because I saw it as a challenge that I could conquer. This was a whole different experience. Sticking an animal to take their blood sugar takes two people and lots of patience. From that day forward she had two shots a day minimum til the day she died.
As time went on the cataracts were worse and I became her eyes. She was still a playful little girl and was enjoying life. She was still playing with her ball on the steps when she could find it and was still able to use her doggie steps onto the bed. She still enjoyed travelling and always smelled the vents as she knew she was getting to go see her granddaddy. She had him wrapped around her little furry paw. It didn't take much to love her. She was beautiful and smart. She knew how to con.
The last two years she progressively worsened and we knew our time with her was limited. I had the hardest time leaving her to go on vacation. I knew she was in good hands with my parents and she loved being there but this mama couldn't relax totally without her by my side. She was my sidekick and I was her lifeline.
Every move I made she made with me. If I went upstairs she did too. If I was in the kitchen so was she. And the recliner was NEVER a seat for one. It was a seat for three, two of those being furry.
She stopped being able to walk up the stairs and it became evident she wasn't able to sleep on the edge of the bed any longer. She commandeered a new spot. It was the coziest, most comforting spot in the bed, right between mom and dad! Isn't that where most babies like to sleep?
No comments:
Post a Comment