Saturday was a gorgeous day; one of those "foolers" that makes you think spring is here. I worked a bit in the yard, but really had to restrain myself from doing too much (and run the risk of plants getting zapped by a sure-to-happen frost). Lucy was in the yard with me happily soaking up the sun. So why was I depressed?
I think weekends are harder because I am with her 24/7 and can witness minute by minute how she is doing. Scrutiny that is that close reveals the changes I miss during the week while working. I don't always want to see them. She's slower. Her breathing is more labored. Her hacking is back. Her energy is low.
I decided to try focusing on the positive. She's here. Very positive. She eats well (in fact, she's always hungry). Positive. She still loves her cocktail ball. Positive. On Sunday, we decided to see if she'd be interested in a little run. Once those van doors opened, she leapt (yes, leapt) in. She ran (loped) about 2.5 miles. Now what's not positive about that?
I had made an appointment with a holistic vet, but my husband was not keen on my taking Lucy in. He recently lost his mother to cancer and saw her go through the medical gamut. He didn't want Lucy to suffer through that. I know it is different for a dog. The medication isn't as powerful; the acupuncture is supposed to ease discomfort. I cancelled the appointment, but may call her again and discuss in more details her costs and the procedures.
Perhaps I'm throwing darts at a moving target, but isn't this what everyone does when they fear they are losing someone (in this case, my lovely hound) they love?
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