That day that never comes until it does

[ritaxis]

This morning early I woke to a strange scraping sound: it was Truffle being unable to stand, slipping on the floor. I've been sitting with her for several hours since then. She did get up and walk a few feet to where I keep her water--except I had her water over here because she couldn't go to it. I can't carry her downstairs. Not because she is too heavy--she weighs 54 pounds or so--but because with the arthritis I need at leadt three limbs to go downstairs, which does not leave enough limbs to carry her. I have an appointment for her this evening at the vet's, if she lives till then.   I'll get Keith or Zack to help me get her there.

Yesterday she had a pretty good day. I had my stint at the UNA store, and as I was getting ready to go she informed me that she would simply die of sadness if I didn't change my plans, so I took her. That went about like I thought it would--she barked when people came by, but she was generally well behaved other than that, not barking at me to get her out of there because she was bored. It also entailed a brief walk both ways (I drove to a parking lot closer to the place because lately she hasn't been up for half-miles at a time), Then she was chipper, and I left her in the evening for Emma's borthday dinner. I told Emma I thought Truffle was learning a new trick: act like she'd dying if she doesn't like what I am doing. But today she's really dying. She woke in the night and listened to the night bird noises, and spent a little time on my bed (this upstairs bed is much closer to the floor than the downstairs one but she hasn't been much of a jumper lately for obvious reasons).

Not going to wax philosophical this time. She's been the Dog of Joy,  and my closest companion during my time of grief. But she is a dog, and has a dog's lifespan, and this is what we get.                                                                                                          

Comments

[tavella.livejournal.com]

Sigh. Yes, it is as it is, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. So best wishes to you both.

[autopope.livejournal.com]

Much sympathy. For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing in not clinging on to her when she's suffering and not getting better.

[pameladean]

It's what we get and we are lucky to have it, but it's never enough. Thinking of you both.

P.

[khiemtran.livejournal.com]

Sorry to hear it...

[al-zorra.livejournal.com]

You gave Truffle joy in return.

Love, C.

[julesjones]

My sympathies.

[hrj.livejournal.com]

Commiserations.

[karinfromnosund.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry. You had a great time together.

[kalmn.livejournal.com]

Oh, dogs. So sorry.

[carbonel]

I'm so sorry. You gave each other a good life.

[birdsedge.livejournal.com]

So sorry to hear this. Eska is now three years old. I still think of her as a puppy, but in doggy years she's already approaching middle age. German Shepherds are not particularly long-lived. (We've never managed to nurture one past ten years old.) But the joy they bring for their brief time is worth the pain when they leave. Hugs.