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November 19th, 2015 8:55 am by Kelly Garbato

I’m afraid we might be nearing the end with Peedee. :(

Last night was rough. Because of his reduced lung capacity, he has trouble getting comfortable; his breathing is rapid and shallow, and his lungs need plenty of room for their extra workload. It was much worse than usual yesterday evening, so we decided to try some melatonin before bed.

(Which, as it turns out, has recently been studied in canine cancer. Early results suggest it might “neutralize” – I’m paraphrasing here – certain cancer cells. Another thing I maybe should have been doing all along.)

Anyway, it didn’t work as I’d hoped; I got up at 3AM to go to the bathroom and noticed that he was awake, but not moving around, shifting and readjusting like he would normally. The most comfortable position for him seems to be lying on his stomach with his head up and alert, which isn’t exactly relaxing. But that’s how he sat most of the night. So I stayed up and comforted his as best I could, but. Yeah. It wasn’t nearly enough.

(It’s weird, Mags came and joined me on the queen bed overnight, but Rennie stayed waaay over on the opposite side of the king. She didn’t even try to wake me when the sun came up.)

I don’t know if we can survive another night of this. This morning Shane and I had THE TALK. I mean, we’ve discussed euthanasia before of course, but this was the first serious, maybe it’s time to pull the trigger discussion.

But he still enjoys eating, and going on walks (short as they may be), barking at strangers (and Finnick!), and playing with his toys! All the benchmarks those do-you-or-don’t-you euthanasia lists tick off. How can I end his life when there are still parts of it that he loves?

I don’t know. We’ve got some calls out to the mobile vets to see how early they could come if we made an appointment today. Shane’s first choice can do it in an hour…or on Monday. There’s always Blue Pearl in a pinch, but I don’t want a sterile office to be the last thing Peedee sees. I really want him to die at home, in his own bed, if possible. But Monday seems so terribly far away this morning.

 

Updated 11/19/15, 7:45PM:

We have an appointment scheduled for 3PM on Monday, with promises from three different mobile vets to call us if they have an opening before then. Worst case, we can take him to the ER at Blue Pearl; throw some blankets in the van, bring Rennie for the ride, and pretend we’re going on a walk. As to keeping him comfortable in the meantime, our regular vet recommended Benadryl to help him sleep. He’s so sick of pills that we finally gave up on the CBD oil and decided to shove the Benadryl down his throat, lest we ruin food for him altogether. (He’s an expert at sniffing it out, we’ve been at this for so long.)

We gave him a little Benadryl this morning and I think he was able to get a few hours of good sleep in before lunch. There are like four places in the house that he really seems to like, the memory foam pillow at the end of the twin bed in the sunroom being one. (He is VERY SPECIFIC in his preferences!)

After that we took him to Wallace State Park. I think he enjoyed the fresh air, but it was slow going (.6 miles in 40 minutes slow). And he loves car rides again, so worst case, we would have driven there, walked a circle around the van, and driven back. Gonna try again tomorrow and the day after that, if he’s feeling up to it.

Right now he’s kinda-sorta snoozing on the couch (on top of the corner back cushion, which is perfectly indented in the middle to fit his growing belly – spot #2). He had some Benadryl with dinner and we’ll give him another dose before bed, so hopefully he’ll sleep some (most?) of the night. I’d rather not dope him up all day if I can help it, but this morning was a special exception – we were both beat from the lack of sleep last night.

So that’s where we’re at. Thanks for all the kind words – I haven’t had a chance to respond to everyone yet, but it means the world. This never gets any easier, but I feel so, so lucky to have had as much time with him as I did. Tomorrow will be six months since we learned of the relapse. The oncologist gave him 2-3 months then. Everything past August? Gravy.

(I sound chipper, but nah. I am bawling my stupid eyes out over here. Pretty much every time Peedee’s not in the room.)

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