Today marks a week since the last day that our energetic young German Shepherd was a puppy and marked the day she turned into an 18 week old lady, ataxic, in pain.
We hoped for a miracle, hoped that the medications would at least improve her quality of life enough for her to enjoy it. Instead, she has become a cowering, fearful little dog that can hardly get up, spends her days prone, usually on her side, panting and periodically yelping in pain. Where she used to anxiously jump and leap to get outside and run, now she reluctantly barely clears the threshhold to relieve herself and cowers back into the cool tile of the utility room. The meds were supposed to at least make her more comfortable, but she won’t be tricked into eating them, hiding in a pill pocket, a dough ball, or a bit of cheese. This requires the old fashioned holding her snout up and forcing them down her throat and raising her head causes more pain and they upsetting her stomach.
Ranger senses something is wrong, sleeping near her, resting a paw on her paws, which even sometimes causes her pain, nosing her gently as he passes her, but no longer trying to engage her in play.
She yelps and I cry. As the days pass, she becomes weaker, more wobbly and cries out more in pain, especially when trying to change position of the floor.
No miracles here, but lots of gentle love as we try to wait out the two week medication schedule, still hoping for that miracle. If it doesn’t come, I guess she will be in my arms as we are forced to put her out of her pain and suffering on next Tuesday, our scheduled vet visit and I will cry some more.