Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- saying goodbye never gets easier Our sweet lug Mozart, the chunky border collie that we got from a guy I dated twice, will most likely be put to sleep tomorrow night. He has, for the past few months now, been suffering from a cancer that has slowly swollen his face, eating into his jaw. It's now a hideous cavern, and he drools a thick mixture of blood and saliva constantly. The saddest thing for all of us is that, at the moment, he's still a relatively happy dog, trotting around the back yard in search of a squirrel, content to sit next to somebody who is willing to scratch his ears. But in the past two days, my sister has discovered that the food he gobbles so eagerly during the day is all being vomited back up during the night. The decision for us, which truly has no answer, is: do we wait it out, until he's truly suffering, or do we put him to sleep now, before the symptoms that he's showing turn into a full decline? The idea of bringing him in to the vet tomorrow, with him wagging his tail cheerfully and begging for treats is obscene to both of us, but neither of us want to wait another week or two and watch the cancer grow even further, watch his appetite completely fail, watch him bleed uncontrollably from his mouth. I've been able to work through all this by being the strong one - or at least I'm trying - but sitting here typing this with him snuggled against my leg (it's thundering outside and he hates storms) is breaking my heart. I keep telling myself that this is the last gift we can give them, our friends who love us with their whole hearts, but it's not much comfort right about now. 8:32 p.m. - 2006-07-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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