I had always intended to write on the blog regularly once Christmas Break was over and the world was back in its routine. I hadn’t intended that this be such an odd, weird, sad, difficult January. We’ve had several tearful conversations about sending one dog to grad school. (His brother, Casey, was smart but Quinn is much, much smarter. So he gets to skip college and go directly to grad school like the prodigy he is.) We’ve had several less tearful but just as serious conversations about the new dog and managing him.
I’ve been realising that I am having a harder time bonding with Gus simply because I feel like it’s mentally trading in old, busted Quinn for Gus’ fluffy puppy new hotness.
I’ve been realising that “we need to put him down because he’s in constant pain” is probably true but doesn’t work as well for me. What’s next? Do I put myself down? Obviously not.
We’ve gotten some stronger-than-aspirin pain meds and an adjustment in insulin that seem to be helping Quinn, so that’s good. Still and all, it’s hard feeling like every day is a Death Test for him.
There’s other stuff going on health-wise and house-wise. It’s just an uphill-both-ways slog these past five or six days and I’m doing good to dress, brush my teeth and keep from passing out. Yesterday I filled the house with noxious black smoke and today we’re living in the malodourous aftermath of that little adventure.
So I haven’t written, which actually does make things worse, Writing even a little bit here is like opening a pressure valve and letting some of the steam vent out instead of boiling my brain inside its case. So now I’m stealing a few minutes while Gus and Gob wrestle on the floor in a growling black blur. I was going to try to put something insightful out into the world, but sometimes the only insight you’ve got is “take everything one bite at a time. One step at a time. One moment at a time. Breathe between bites, steps, moments, because breathing brings clean air to your blood.
Breathe and type. That’s my only advice.
I can so relate to the old-dog, new-dog trade thing. My old Dax was going downhill and we were so on the fence about putting her down, and along came K’rysy. It made Dax’s issues even harder to deal with. Like the contrast between them really accentuated the struggles with Dax. But I felt really guilty. Like I was trading in for a newer model or something.
Anyway, hugs.
I’m so sorry. I feel for you. Be well (as possible under all the circumstances) and do the work only when you can.
I keep thinking about this. I’m so sorry, and nothing anyone can do will make it easier. But it does occur to me that possibly having a young puppy around is providing some late-in-life fun for Quinn.
Have you tried Duralactin? My 14 year old uses it post knee surgery. Helps with many types of pain.
*hugs*