This dog thing is hard. So hard to know if you are doing the right thing, the wrong thing, or just not doing enough at all. I keep telling myself, "He's just a dog Wendi. It's okay." But he isn't just a dog to me. He is so much more than that to me.
I must admit that prior to having Scrubs, I didn't get the sadness associated with losing a pet. I never mocked it. But I never truly, in my heart, understood why the pain was that debilitating for people.
I get it now.
Totally get it.
The hardest part for me is that Scrubs is totally, 100% himself. He is acting like the same old Scrubs. But his abdomen has now gotten so big, he can't reach his ear to scratch with his leg.
JB and I talked at length this morning, and I emailed a former player of mine from Franklin, Kentucky who is now a vet. She gave us some good advice, and we have decided to call our vet here in the morning and bring Scrubs in for another draining -- but this time couple it with IV fluids. We'd like to try this one time and see how much fluid she can get off, how much it costs, and how long before we would have to do it again.
We know that he is dying, but we also know that he is currently really enjoying life. My friend Emily said that she wouldn't put him down until he indicates he is in pain or his mood declines. I have to agree. He is so happy. Running around the farm. Begging for treats. Asking for pets. If he was acting sick it would be so much easier.
I'll keep you all posted on how things go tomorrow.