"I'm concerned," said the vet.
And in those quiet, kindly spoken, carefully chosen words, I knew all that I needed to know.
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Tiny Dog has dilated cardiomyopathy. It appears to be advancing quickly, given the rapid increase of her heart murmur. She has a new drug regimen which will hopefully buy us some time. The vet indicated that it is possible she will enter heart failure within a few months, and with the addition of further medications, may yet live a bit longer - perhaps a year. So we have a year, perhaps two if we are very lucky, left with Tiny Dog.
My own heart might be a bit broken. Broken for my Tiny Dog, and for Beloved Husband and the Offspring, who love this Tiny Dog. I cannot imagine that day when I must tell them that Tiny Dog's tiny life is folding to a close. (Or, perhaps, I can imagine far too well, but the anticipatory grief is too much yet to bear.)
I know that medical predictions can be an inexact science. She could, after all, defy odds and live a long, happy life yet. Nevertheless, I prepare myself for the careful, watchful waiting -- as I once did with my beloved ottoman-shaped dog -- and will be mindful of our time with her, knowing that our time is short.
Good girl, Tiny Dog.
*
Thinking of you, sending hugs.
ReplyDeleteThis is so hard... sometimes it is better not to know, on the other hand, you can cherish each day more now... wishing you peace.
ReplyDelete