Something weighing on my heart...

My Duce, my moose, my moo, my first baby. The one who made me a fur-mom for the past 7.5 years. His mom was actually my childhood dog. He is loveable, sweet, sometimes irritating... 

But sometimes I’m not exactly where to start…

The whole ordeal with Duce is really killing me. For those of you who don’t know who Duce is: he’s my 7 year old puppy and he’s slowly dying from either cancer or liver failure- the vet wasn’t able to determine what, due to the extra testing being somewhat costly. And his belly is full of fluid… we had him drained almost two weeks ago, and he’s full again. The only thing we can do is “comfort care”. But WTH does that actually mean? Just keep him comfortable, rack up a rather large vet bill (I think we are over $300 with the testing and all), and not know when he is going to pass. I actually asked the vet what his life expectancy is… she couldn’t give me a definite. But she did say that if he filled back up rather quickly after being drained, the odds weren’t good. And he filled back up in two weeks. Unfortunately, they only prefer to drain about every four weeks. They don’t want to risk infection or the chance of him springing a leak. And the problem with him filling up, is the fact that the fluid is crowding his organs and could put pressure on his heart and lungs- making it harder for him to breathe. 

I have yet to call the vet and get her opinion on his filling up again- partly because I know what she is going to say… 

And what makes things worse is the fact that the hubby keeps wanting to talk about when we are going to do it- let Duce go and all. And he wants details- like where we will bury him, if we are going to take Lil Man with us, and so on. It’s excruciating. And then my Dad told me that he told my brother that if he decides to get rid of his puppy, to ask me, because Duce won’t be here much longer. It’s a nice gesture. But it’s morbid. And I really don’t want to make the plans on what “replacement” dog I am going to get once I “kill” my current one. And then after explaining to a 4 year old what is going to happen with the dog that he has known his whole life- all he says is “is Duce going to die?” I know he somewhat gets it, but every time he asks me, I want to crawl under the cover in the bed and cry.

The kicker is that I know I need to make the decision- but I can’t. Well, I can- it’s just a phone call to schedule it- but I don’t want to. It would be easier if he was actually looking sick, but he’s not. He still wags his tail, barks, eats, goes to the “bathroom”, and so on. For all intents and purposes, he “seems” like a healthy dog. But with a rather large stomach. To me it’s like choosing the day that your child is going to die. Sorry to be morbid again. But it’s the truth. And could you do that? Duce is like my child. He is the first dog that I have raised from a six week old clumsy little puppy and he has never let my side since. Before we had Lil Man, Duce’s puppy pictures filled the picture frames around the house. And I would post cute little videos and pictures to Facebook- actually I think it may have been Myspace at that point- of things that he would do. And he was the one who would follow me to the bathroom and look up and me with those precious little eyes. And he was the one who was sitting next to me on the couch when the hubby proposed (yes, he knelt down in front of me while I was sitting on the couch, presented me with a ring, and asked me to be his wife- nothing extravagant, just me, the man I loved, and our puppy). And he was the one who greeted me when I came home from school or work. And he was the one who made me feel better. And he was my selfie partner before selfies were hashtaged or a “thing”.

Maybe I am just being selfish. Maybe he is actually hurting, and I am just keeping him around for my sake. Lately, Duce has been following me around the house. It’s like he is stuck so far up my ass, and I constantly feel myself tripping over him. It’s crazy. It’s almost like he just doesn’t know what to do. Maybe that’s my sign. IDK. 

It’s going to be hard for me when I do it. Honestly, I thing it will be easier for me if I choose the day that I loose my first fur-baby, instead of waking up in the morning and finding him cold in the cage before work. I wold definitely loose it then.

Granted I will be grateful for the time I was able to spend with him, but it’s going to be hard on all of us when I make that appointment. And I’m just not ready for the aftermath just yet.

*linking up with Ember Grey

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