I’m here at the vet now, just me and the Herbert. Tears keep falling down my face, even when I don’t feel like I’m crying…..tears are there.
He’s not good.
I’ve put my foot down. We either stomach tube him or put him down, he is uncomfortable and miserable and that is not fair to him. I feel like if he could get nutrition; he would be able to heal. His stomach works, but his traitorous body won’t let any food or water get there. I feel ya Herbie, my body is a traitorous bastard too.
I just hate this so much. I’m tired….like soul-weary tired.
Herbert’s in the doggie hospital on an IV. He took a turn for the worse. I discussed with two very competent veterinarians as to whether it was time to let him go, and the decision was made to give fluids and see how he was in the morning.
I will let y’all know if/when I know anything.
Also, if there is ever a HIPPA-like act enacted for dogs I will be screwed, as I managed to hold my shit (barely) together by blatantly listening to consults happening throughout the clinic and either emphatically agreeing or disagreeing with stuff I heard.