I took Riley to the vet yesterday, and while I know that she’s old and is falling apart, the news of the latest diagnosis landed like a brick. It is technically possible that it’s just an infection, but they don’t think so. They think it’s a tumor in her jaw. This development came on quickly, and felt especially horrible because I have always been able to judge how she is by her appetite. She can still eat for now, and she still wants all the cookies, but the vet said she’s probably chewing on the other side of her mouth, so I have started putting water into her kibble. She’s back on antibiotics and pain meds, but they said it’s probably just about making her comfortable. The vet said it will be time when the bad days start outnumbering the good days.
I found a scale online that’s very simple with a range of 0-2 on each category, like mobility and interaction, with each rating clearly defined. Can you imagine trying to rate those things from 1-10? You can track each rating in a table with the daily total. There’s room for notes, and the totals give you a clear answer in pretty simple terms, kind of a red light, yellow light, green light with suggestions for how to proceed. The table has the date and rating for each category plus the total, so you can track deterioration.
So I was a minor mess yesterday. It’s amazing how hard it is to keep it together, considering this isn’t really news. Riley has had a long, full, happy life, and that is the goal. I was trying to think about it from a nicer perspective and came up with this: I can make sure her last days are not her worst days. It’s horrifying how many people actually surrender their animals to the shelter because they are old. Now’s the time to spoil her even more than usual, and to make sure that she gets her time outside, sitting in the shade and smelling the air.
But arrgghhhh, it is awful. I got some prices- the euthanasia is totally affordable, and it’s not much more to have the vet come to my place, which is SUCH a relief. The cremation is expensive, but I don’t like the alternatives, and if I get her ashes, I can let her go at Topaz, a.k.a. Dog Heaven. That’s been the plan for years.
The other awful thing about all this is how alone it makes me feel. I keep looking at my phone for someone to call, but this is really nobody’s but mine. It’s not as if I’m alone- I feel a lot of love from a lot of people who are really supportive, but I keep looking to that empty space next to me. I know I can do this alone, and I probably will, and my friends and family will buoy me up when it happens, but it sure does make me feel lonely. Even if there was someone in that space, it’s still going to be awful. I can see spending a few days curled up with Solo, who will also be feeling that loss daily. I printed out months’ worth of those tracking sheets, and noted how optimistic that was. I don’t get to know how long she’ll be around, and she could bounce back and outlive us all. This news yesterday reminded me again how it’s never the problems you expect. I know that, but I just cannot stop anticipating. That’s why we both needs those daily breaks to go sit outside in the sun or the shade and just be there together.
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