Monday, August 18, 2014

So What Do I Do?

Haven't posted for awhile, and what I have to post about now I'd rather not write.

I'm sitting on the two-seat sofa with Llewellyn next to me, and he's not well at all.  Around the first of the month he threw up his regular kibble (whole), then started turning up his nose at it altogether.  Prior to that he'd been having trouble eliminating, but I thought maybe he'd gotten into the cat box and picked up a bug.  But when he didn't want to eat . . .  Got a vet appointment for the Thursday following (the 7th, the soonest they had), and they told me to put him on chicken and rice in the meantime.

He ate that fine, and everything looked all right at his appointment.  I just needed to feed him more and get him fattened up again; he was too skinny.  They also gave me an antibiotic as they thought he might have a gastric infection.

Kept him on the chicken and rice and changed his kibble.  Fine in general, though he wasn't keen on the increased amounts (this is a dog who left toothmarks in the metal lid of a scented candle).  But last Wednesday his stool got tarry and gradually there were fewer and fewer things I could get him to eat.

Saturday night I made him a batch of hushpuppies and that's the last thing of any significance he's had.

Got him in to the vet's today.  X-rays and sonogram clean.  But they did a comprehensive bloodwork panel and it shows that he's severely anemic.  The doctor is of the opinion that Llewellyn either has an ulcer-- or it's a stomach tumor-- i.e., cancer.

They sent me home with more pills.  For what it's worth, for he's still refusing to eat.  He's lost two pounds in the past 11 days.  And he was a lean dog already.

Vet says if he doesn't start eating I'm going to have to make a Decision.  Crap.  How is it he's still so strong he won't open his jaws for me, but so weak it was a wonder that I found him upstairs with me this morning?

It's not helping going online and reading about miracle cures.  Do I get this stuff and force it down him on the chance it'll mean a breakthrough?  Or do I leave him in peace . . . for whatever time he has left?

Sometimes, when the mood takes me, I bunk down on the two-seat sofa and spend the night sleeping with the dog in the living room.  I think that's what I'll do tonight.

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