I don't know what to call this except maybe, "Tell me something happy because I don't have anything to say in that category."

Oh my gosh. Just...wow. You are the nicest, kindest, most empathetic people and I am so glad that you read my piddly website because your nice words carried me this week. CARRIED ME. I cannot even count how many times I teared up just looking at Jake this week and knowing that today might be his last day and I might have to decide to euthanize him soon so, here you go Jake! Eat all these Milk Bones!

I felt so dumb really, for clogging up Twitter with "My dog!" and "What do I tell Claire?" and "HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPENING?" Talk about a buzzkill lasting several days. Every time I clogged up Twitter with my sad story, someone said something kind and I felt a little less stupid for being so worked up about just a dog. But really, he's only just a dog the same way you're just a person. Life is precious in all forms and sizes. (Until this week I'm not sure I knew how strongly I felt about a statement like that, but it turns out that I do.)

A personality you've spent 14 years with is not a just anything. He's a beloved member of this family. (That sounds trite, I know, but things get to be trite because of their universal truth, so there you go. TRITE.)

On that note, I am not sure what in the hell is going on with Jake. STILL. He is on steroids, a painkiller and an antibiotic. That must be a serious cocktail, because it seems to be working. The past 36 hours have been nothing short of miraculous. The dog that would not get up on his own? He walks freely around the house begging for scraps of food. He goes outside to pee. He can't use his doggy door because his back leg is still tender (I mean, I think?) and we have to actually open the door but guys, THE DOG IS WALKING AGAIN. (I can't believe it.)

Then we were like, "Um, okaaay? Do we...wait and see? Or was this just supposed to give us time to say goodbye? What are we supposed to do here? He can't take steroids forever."

My vet friend Julie called and she clued me in on the fact that steroids are amazing. Actually though, the way she said it was more like, "Steroids are AMAZING." Like, superhero-power amazing. In her opinion it made sense that he was walking around - he feels better because that's what they're supposed to do. They are a short term solution though; we only have a ten-day supply and we're halfway through it and I'm pretty sure he can't take steroids for weeks and weeks. I suppose the rationale is try to give Jake's body enough time to heal and rest and perhaps he'll figure out a way to beat the tumor and the blood flow problems.

But...I think everyone's expectation is that this will absolutely not happen, given what we know about his condition.

Last night, Chris and I talked quietly in the dark about "taking him back to the vet" on Friday morning. For, you know, the procedure. We were going to see how he is today and then make a decision on tonight about Friday morning. Delay the Big Decision as long as we could and not make any assumptions because we are both in a little bit of denial. Then this morning? He's walking! And eating! And...he seems to be mostly okay but still a bit gimpy so that means we should...not take him in on Friday? We think not. We think we'll wait the weekend and see how he is on Monday.

This whole Today? Tomorrow? When? line of thinking makes me sick because I feel like some kind of weird God-like figure in the matter. I am very, very, very uncomfortable making a decision to end his life if he's not in over-the-top obvious pain, but at the same time I don't want him to be in over-the-top, obvious pain. Every day is precious, you know? You've all told me that we'll know when the time is right and I suppose that means now is not the time, but I am doubting my ability to recognize it when it comes.

That's the catch-up, even though I feel like there's no news of any substance in here. Jake walks, eats, pees, bothers Claire, all with a limp and all under the influence of heavy medication and we think he has less than a week in him, which is more than I thought he had two days ago.

It feels like a really ugly waiting game that isn't fair to anyone and doesn't have a right answer.

Comments

[Chattycricket]

UGH. Ugh ugh ugh. I wish I could give you a BIG GIANT HUG.

Take the days that Jake feels awesome (better?) and just LOVE HIM. I think he will probably let you know when it's time. Really. And keep talking to your vet.

We had a bichon when I was growing up, and he developed hemangiosarcoma. My parents actually opted for chemo. And all of his hair fell out. And he looked like Dobby from the Harry Potter movies and he was SO UGLY but he had no idea. Oh my God I loved him so much. And then he got bad really quickly and you know how this ends. But he had some really good time there and I'm thankful for it. Even if he did look like a hairless cat.

Awww Jake. Give him a pat on the head from the internets.

[Kirsten poss]

You are doing the right thing and believe it or not you will know when the time comes. Just enjoy each moment you have with him now and don't spend to much time thinking of when the end will come. You will know when it is time and he will also. You have been given more time with him for know. Treat that like a blessing and treasure each moment.

[Mama Bub]

Oh. Well this is just awful and the decision making must be just so wearing. I'm so sorry. And also, so happy that right now Jake is more like the dog that you love. Hold on to that moment.

[Life of a Doctor's Wife]

A pet IS a beloved member of the family. I'm thinking of you guys... Sending you hugs.

[Sarah in Ottawa]

I think you're doing amazingly well. Maybe not as AMAZING as the steroids you're giving Jake, but amazing nonetheless. You guys are such considerate and conscientious pet owners. You're acting in love and in the best interests of your beloved pet, so don't doubt that you're doing the right thing. xo

[Jessica]

I don't know how serious you were about telling Claire he's going to a nice farm (the tweet sounded like you were not serious), but I don't think it's the worst idea in the world. Our dog died when I was 2 and I have zero memories of the whole thing. I have no idea what my parents told me, therefore maybe it doesn't matter what they told me?

I'm sure experts still recommend you don't go with the farm story, I'm just saying maybe what you tell her doesn't matter as much as they might say. Maybe it does. I don't know. Mainly I'm trying to go with an encouraging "whatever you do will likely be fine and no method is significantly better than the others" here.

[craftyashley]

I'm so sorry. I feel the same way about our dogs- even the days they pee on the rug. (GAH! Frustration!) My human kids do the same thing so whatever. There really is no right answer in your situation. I think as long as you end up doing is out of love, no dog could ask for anything better. I hope the day never comes when we will have to make the same decisions about our four legged companions. Good luck to you and your family.

[Julie]

I am so sorry about all of this. My heart breaks for you.

For what it's worth, I think your love for Jake is admirable and that you are handling the situation with a great deal of grace. My thoughts are with you.

[HereWeGoAJen]

I'm sorry, the whole situation sucks.

I think you WILL know when the time is right. My cat of sixteen years died last year (she lived with my sister at this point, but she's always been MY cat) and it was terrible.

I know this is a really big deal, pets are big parts of the family. I will be thinking of all of you.

[BigP's Heather]

I read this on my phone at 4am and have been thinking about you ever since. I wrote a long response and my phone ate it...

I'm thinking about you guys.

My dogs helped when I moved to Arkansas and they rescued me from my darkest places during infertility treatments before. I don't know how I will handle it when...

[Morgan]

Our dog with very advanced lymphoma was on steroids for about a month and was so happy and peppy and normal. It was beyond awful knowing that he was feeling super good but his days were very numbered. Each day I was thinking....will today be the day he gets bad again? And one day it did and there was no question it was time to take him for his final vet visit. But, oh how we loved on him that last month and was so, so happy. I think that is the most ANY of us can hope for our pet. Big hugs to you.

[Raven]

I think, if anything, it's HARDER with a pet than with a person...because a pet is ALWAYS there for you when you need them. A pet is NEVER too busy for you when you've had a bad day. A pet never chooses another friend over you or has something better come up, you know? Their love is actually unconditional. It's been two years this summer since I had to make the choice to put my Izzy down and I still cry anytime I think about her. I still cry whenever I see a golden retriever that resembles her. STILL. UGH. It's never easy...even when it's a matter of easing their suffering.

*HUGS*

I'm here if you need to talk.

[Erica]

That's tough. I wouldn't know what to do either.

[RockyCat]

I had a cat who was on steroids for months. I'm sure the vet will refill Jake's prescription, so don't worry about that. Pets can surprise you - he may have more time than you think. And yes, you will know when it's time - you'll see it in Jake's eyes. Just remember that helping him on his way is the last, BEST thing that you can do for your friend. He would thank you, if he could.

I'll be thinking of you and your family.

[Mel]

Hope you/he continue to enjoy the time you have. Pets live far too short for us people.

[Wendy Watkins]

I will de-lurk to agree with RockyCat. Jake will tell you. And because you love him, you won't misinterpret it or miss the message. Clarity is an odd thing. And it happens when it is needed most.

[Manda]

RockyCat and Wendy pretty much summed up everything I was going to say. He'll tell you, and you'll hear him loud and clear. I'm not saying it'll be easy, only that you'll understand it as clearly as you understand when Claire needs a nap or when Charlotte is hungry. You will just know, because your intuition will guide you. Trust yourself.

My grandmother died recently. My son, who is 3, loved her very very much. We told him that Mamaw had to go away, up into the sky, so that she could watch over him all the time, and that he can still talk to her and she can hear him - she just can't talk back. He's okay with that. Every parent has to decide what's best for their children. You know what Claire is capable of understanding, and what your belief set is (heaven, no heaven, etc.). Trust your gut on that one too. As someone else said, she's 2 and she likely won't remember this later in life. You'll do just fine.