Dot threw up again last night and still seemed to be having trouble swallowing her pills this morning. Things are changing and I'm still trying to figure out how to adapt. Since putting her meds inside a small ball of canned dog food doesn't seems to work anymore, we're going to try cheese. Dot has always loved cheese. If cheese doesn't work, we can always try to boil a chicken breast and then cube the meat into small pieces we can use to hide a pill. One way or another, Dot still needs to take her meds.
I don't remember aging being quite as stressful with our other dogs. Maybe it was though. I tend to blot out things I don't want to remember. Spot lived to be fourteen. Like Dot, he lived through major spinal surgery and intestinal cancer. The surgery was successful, but cancer detection methods weren't as good back then and the cancer returned. Petey died suddenly of kidney failure and Greta never made it out of the hospital after a cancerous lobe of her liver was removed. Dot has lived longer than any dog we've ever had, but I doubt she'll make it to her next birthday. It's really sad to see this chapter of her life and mine coming to a close.
Occasionally, I'll look at old movies of Dot and Dash running and jumping over things. They were both very athletic and loved the dog park. Those years seem so long ago. Life has become so much smaller. Lately, we just try to make it through the day. Success is a day where Dot is able to hold down her food and enjoy a very short assisted walk to the end of our street. I've gotten so used to dealing with her incontinence that it just seems normal now. I can almost read Dot's mind by now. A glance tells me when she is in pain or when she needs to pee. We have become very close. I know she wants to continue. I just don't know how long she can.
Since there weren't any writing or website jobs today, I decided to get caught up on my bookkeeping. It's sobering to compare this year's billing to earlier years. Truthfully, there isn't much left of the business anymore. I just can't bring myself to formally close it. When friends of mine have found themselves in a similar situation, some of them have turned to teaching. I taught as an adjunct professor years ago, but couldn't imagine doing it anymore. I've become far too reclusive.
I wonder sometimes if Dash will be our last dog. Caring for two aging cancer survivors has been more tiring than I ever imagined. My Dad had a little Dachshund who was his constant companion until the day he died. Little dogs are easier to take care of though and tend to live longer. Dalmatians are extremely active dogs and deserve to be with an equally active person. I don't know if I have the energy for another Dalmatian, but I could never imagine having anything else.
I never made it up on the roof today. I never got my bone density scan either. Dot was restless. I was slow. It's amazing we made it through the day at all. I'm hoping that we both get a burst of renewed energy tomorrow.
|Marley is today's Dalmatian of the Day ||Watch of the Day |