Last night was not a good night for Nesta. I can tell he is so uncomfortable. Sunday was not as good as Saturday, by the end of the night, he was back to being nauseous with no appetite for anything. I can tell he is fighting with all he has. He is so bony these days. It has been about a week and half since he hasn’t been eating well. He coughs a lot more than usual, (he’s always been the dog who hacks here and there, like something is caught in his throat). But now it’s as if something is really caught in his throat. He is still drinking more water than usual, and his gums remain nice and pink lately. But he’s so weak and has a hard time holding himself up off the ground when he tries to poop out what little he has to offer. When I lay with him, he is so restless. Can’t get comfortable, and jumps every now and then as if something is hurting him.
This morning, I have been thinking about calling the Vet back again. This time feels more appropriate to me, although I still feel cowardly. We had a great weekend together, the three of us, with several visits from family. I think Nesta was holding out for that, because he knew we needed that closure. Today, he seems to be looking at me with a lost look in his eyes. When I go to snuggle with him, I loose it and start to cry as special memories begin to creep into my thoughts. He licks my nose and face and then re-adjusts himself to get a better look in my eyes. I have been hiding my tears from him for the most part this week, but today, I need him to experience them.
I did my yoga practice this morning; he is usually always on the floor beside me during my morning ritual. When he heard my mat roll out, and my breathing begin to deepen, he did what he always does. He rallied yet again, hopped into the living room and plopped down on his bed beside my yoga mat.
Is it time, is it not time, is it time, is it not time? Oh, some things seem so normal, but mostly, I know, he is not normal, and I don’t think that old normal with ever be back again. And then to confirm that for me, he jumps and fidgets again as if something is eating his insides. And then he looks at me with wide, irritated eyes. I think he’s ready to be happy and feeling good again. I don’t think he has time for this anymore.
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