The shortest days

Alright, well... sad updates. I called the vet today for the pre-determined check in, and considering her condition, he felt it was time. I have a home euthanasia scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. I'm going back and forth on this, but then she'll wake up and I can just see it's true. The mass is causing her pain and she doesn't close her mouth all the way because her teeth are cutting into it. It's getting harder to get her to take her pills and I've increased the pain pills to the max on their directions. The vet said to keep up the meds if she'll take them, but not to fight her. He told me that the meds are only buying time, and a few weeks at most- the compassionate thing to do is let her go.

I've been crying most of the day, but Sarah and Amanda just took me out for food, beer, and ice cream. I had maybe half of a Like It- some lovely peanut butter and chocolate combination. The rest is in my freezer. I took Riley out around 5, and we sat in the shade on a little hill. I think I've been a pretty good dog mama, but of course right now I just feel guilty and inadequate.

Dad is coming up to be with me through this. I'm really grateful for that. I feel like I know how much this is going to hurt, but I know anticipating never covers it. I'm trying to absorb as much of her as I can now- pets and cuddles and kisses. Sometimes she wants to tackle the stairs on her own, but mostly she just waits for me to carry her. I use every time to kiss her and feel her weight, try to make her feel as supported and safe as possible. We've switched to entirely wet food and I don't count the soft cookies. If she wants more peanut butter than what covers her pills, she gets as much as she wants. I'm thinking about getting her one of those puppuccinos from Starbucks. What else can I give her? Bacon? Steak? Spray cheese? Mostly just time to sit outside in the shade, enjoying the breeze, the smells, and the company.

Right now she is sleeping peacefully on the floor in the middle of my bedroom. The lights are on and I've been puttering and singing along with my iPod a little. I imagine these muffled goings on are normal and comforting to her. She's resting her head on the right side, just like she's done every time she's slept in the past week. Her breaths come in almost sighs, and sometimes those puffs will fluff her eyebrows.

I am going to miss you so much, little girl.