I’m feeling sad today. My old dog, Fay, is not eating her food. About two weeks ago, she was in the same predicament. I took her to the vet who found an infected tumor in her mouth. Beyond the infection, it looks cancerous. I’ve seen a cancerous tumor before. So, we got steroids and antibiotics, but I felt these were only a bandage.
I’m at a cross roads. I’ve vowed to never do heroics on her. I expected her to live to be about twelve. If she makes it another three months, she’ll be sixteen. She’ll not have surgery. She’ll not be prolonged again. Now, what I vacillate over is whether I take her in to be put down or if I ask the vet for pain meds and keep her home. I’m leaning toward the latter. She was so nervous and scared at the vet’s office. I really hate the idea of having to take her there to die. I think it would be better to be at home…Where she has lived since we brought her home at 8 months old from the Humane Society. I just can’t imagine having to bring her home after her death to be buried in the backyard. What a horrible drive home. I can’t bear the thought of having to do that by myself. At times like these I really wish I had a life partner.
This is the hardest part.