Falling In

Ottoman-shaped dog is vaguely ailing.

He has had a urinary tract infection for a while; it is slowly responding to antibiotics, and hopefully will disappear completely by the end of the extra week of drugs.  In part because of the infection, his blood sugar has been iffy; he has needed to have his insulin dose adjusted several times in the past month.  And he is slowly losing some of his fur:  the tip of his stumpy tail, his nose, the inside of his back legs.  We suspect he may have Cushing's syndrome.  It will require a specialized (and somewhat expensive) test to make that determination; the drug regimen for treatment, while not terribly costly, is a bit fraught and requires very close veterinary supervision.  Depending on the cause of the condition, prognosis can be considered guarded. Alas.

We are unsure whether to test or not to test.  He does not appear to be suffering; and that suggests that perhaps we should leave well enough alone.  We do want to give him the best possible quality of life; but multiple frequent trips to the vet and tinkering with drug regimens does not necessarily mean the best possible quality of life.  We shall see how he fares.

Sometimes we think, he needs to either be fine, or pass onward.  We know, though, that life is not that simple, and that we all will likely face decline -- some of it unpleasant -- as we age. Herself hopes that it becomes quickly clear when it is time to help ottoman-shaped dog cross to the next world.

Last night, Herself had a nightmare.  She dreamt that she and ottoman-shaped dog were out in the yard of an unfamiliar house. There were little hillocks and pits, and they were investigating.  Ottoman-shaped dog suddenly fell into a hole; it was tremendously deep, and he fell and fell and then landed at the bottom.  Herself thought he got up and shook himself off, but wasn't sure if he was injured from the fall.  She knew that he would be distressed to be so far away from her, especially given how he waits at the door whenever she leaves the house. The rope she had was not nearly long enough to be able to climb down to him.  She knew she needed to help him. She did not know how.  He was unreachable.

She woke up with a start. It took quite a bit of time before she could shake away the fear and dread that had ruptured the dream, even though ottoman-shaped dog was there, sleeping quietly at the foot of the bed.  She gave him a pat, and he stirred just a little bit, and sighed the relaxed sigh of a content dog.

Good boy.