Back in January our 9-year-old dog started getting sick. Really sick. Over the course of only seven hours he vomited almost 20 times and then began squirting blood out the other end of his body. It was not pretty. Honestly, it looked like someone had slaughtered a small animal in the house. The vet couldn't pinpoint what was causing any of it. Congestive heart failure? Liver failure? A tumor in his pancreas? Administering four medicines to him four times a day over the course of a month, I thought I had nursed him back to health. That is, until this past weekend.
More puking. More blood squirting out the other end. And that is where the baby gates are coming back into action--hopefully saving myself from cleaning more unspeakables out of our carpet! I just started mentioning in passing to the kids this afternoon that the dog is sick, be gentle with him, let him lay down, etc. Eventually Z picked up on it and said, "He's probably dying." I was surprised that he didn't sound sad when he said it; it was very factual. Our next steps for him would either be surgery or to put him down. Surgery isn't in the plan. So my hope is that he either gets better or Tyler will be home to take him to his final visit to the vet.
So, here's to Chester! The one and only post I have ever dedicated to our dog!
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